


Origami Grows

by Kameiko



Category: Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Action, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Drama, F/M, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Humor, M/M, Murder, On the Run, Plot Twists, Post Mpreg, Psychological Torture, Puns & Word Play, Revenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kameiko/pseuds/Kameiko
Summary: Time of death?Between the hours of 12 and 2 PM.Time they'll run?...





	Origami Grows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YunaBlaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunaBlaze/gifts).

> I don't own any franchises, products, and characters mentioned in this story. My work is purely for everybody's enjoyment, and I would like to keep it that way. Having ownership over all this that requires contracts and other lawful fruitfulness is just too much responsibility. I am not ready for that kind of work, nor does my massive paycheck of $0.00 show for it in the world of fanfiction.
> 
> Hey, Yuna! Girl, I know you and everyone else are really going to like this fic! I really appreciate you and everything you've done for me. You've given me the courage to push past obstacles I thought that would continue to weigh me down. Thank you for showing me how wrong I have been this whole time. I hope to write for you in the future, and throw out some yummy treats that you deserve! Here's to us and our future! Cheers!

_Hey, Jensen, can you meet me at the old abandon LIMB clinic in half an hour? I think I have something that might interest you. It’s about the TF29 psychologist: Delara Auzenne? Man, you’re not going to like what I have for you. You better get over here quick! _

Adam is given no time to respond as the line is cut off, and when he tries to call back, there’s nothing but a beeping static. Something’s not right. Alex always picks up when Adam calls her, and is the noise acting like a tracer beep? He shuts off his info-link. He needs to speak with Alex about this, someone’s tracing their calls without them noticing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. Should he call back on her emergency line?

His thoughts are soon interrupted, there’s a wailing sound coming from the room next to him. He makes his way to the source of the crying. It’s coming from a baby boy dressed in a white shirt that has a red and blue miniature rocket on it with a green alien in the driver’s seat smiling and waving at whoever stares at it with a cuddly smile.

Adam lifts him up to see what’s the problem, and then the smell hits him. His two-month-old son needs a changing. Smiling, Adam cradles him into his arm as he brings him to the changing pad. The baby has stopped crying when he gets the thing he needed, choosing to coo at his papa till he needs something else right that second. Adam smiles at the sight of the little troublemaker checking out his augmented thumb, wanting to suck on it. The baby must have a taste!

Adam’s father, Arthur Jensen, makes an appearance, poking his head through the doorway to see if Adam needs any help.

Adam feels guilty for what he’s about to say next. “If it’s not too much trouble, can you please watch him for a bit? Work called, and I am needed for a couple of hours.” 

Half a lie and full guilt knowing his dad’s age and how much he can handle. Adam’s father is here in Prague on vacation, visiting old friends and of course, his son, grandson, and son-in-law.

“Of course! I can get out the old tablet and put your mom on the line, so she can talk to him as well!” Arthur pulls out the very outdated tablet. He’s not lying, it’s a dinosaur. Adam knows what to get his parents this Christmas.

Adam chuckles. “Thanks.”

Arthur sets the tablet down and picks up his grandson off the changing pad. “Who’s a good stinker? You are!” He rubs his nose against the others, happy cooing sounds echo the room.

Adam takes one more look around the babies’ room. It’s a deep blue color from the walls to the shaggy carpet. White-Gray furniture lay in the rooms wake. More of MacReady’s idea then Adam’s. Adam couldn’t think of a color scheme well enough outside of black and gold. Thank God Mac knew how to incorporate Adam’s visuals of his star dreams. The top parts of the wall consist of stars, moons, and a cat in an astronaut suit floating around with mice like meteor’s before it. Almost as if the cat is moon walking after its lunch.

Arthur places a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You did a good job, kid. The black and gold buildings blending underneath is also a nice touch! Maybe you can let your mother and I to paint the base line? I am thinking of dancing dogs with gerbils dressed in those funny costumes from the circus!”

What an odd combination, but how could Adam say no that? He shakes his head and chuckles at the fact his father forgot the word “clown” outfits. Maybe letting his dad do as he pleases isn’t a good idea? Oh, no harm will be done; Giving him a final hug and a kiss on the top of his brown eyed baby boy’s head, not knowing this is the last time he’ll see his father and son.

_“It’d done.” A disembodied voice talks into the microphone on her blouse. Her red lips smiling cruelly. _

_She clicks through the voice changer, playing back Alex Vega’s voice word for word for the male listener on the other side of her phone. _

_“Good. The place is almost set up for him. He won’t be able to escape.” _

_She takes a cigarette in her mouth, blowing out a smoke ring. They’re both hoping this operation is successful. A repeat performance will not be able to happen or tolerated under any circumstances. _

_The male voice speaks up again, “This virus will be like no other. Used properly, any foe with an implanted rebreather augmentation will not last more than a few seconds. No time to reach for a Biocell.”_

_“What if he does?”_

_There’s a pause, she’s doubting his plans again. Jensen is an augmented mortal, and that’s the fact that everyone needs to get through their heads. He can’t survive in the face of danger forever, no matter how many experimental augments he has on him, doesn’t make him immortal. Makes him limited. _

_Still, he decides to play along with the joke. He lets out a subtle laugh. “You have a strong natural arm, Delara. I expect you to knock him out if you have to.”_

_“You should know with how many times I’ve knocked you in your head.” Delara taps her elbow impatiently. She hates it when her husband gets like this! The creepy voice change from him is only there as a precaution. Just in case if anyone is listening in. _

_There’s no one else listening in, of course. Not even their own conscious that clocked out years ago. Only the uneasiness of Delara’s thoughts going through her head about how she’s going to handle knocking Adam out. Her husband is sipping on some hot tea, knowing she’s going to ease his plans forward. _

It’s Adam’s last night, and he doesn’t get to see his husband Duncan MacReady ever again. For Adam stares at the sunny disposition mobile spinning over Arthur and his son. It’s giving off a faint music box jingle. This calms him. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, and steps outside into the sunlight. The bright afternoon sun greets him with warm rays and a shining lake drags off in the distance. This is nice.

All of this is too nice for just one soulmate to enjoy…

He’ll have to bring Mac out here for a picnic when it’s raining sunlight like this again.

***

Adam’s suspicious. The front door is barred off with metal sheeting with no remote hacking port. Uneasiness grows. He makes his way to the side of the building where an upward vent is located. Using his high jump ability he manages to open the vent and sneak inside, keeping his ears and augmented vision open for anything out of place.

There seems to be nothing here but broken medical equipment. He looks up to see if anything’s changed. The boxes were cleared out during his first visit here with Alex. So far, only empty boxes and broken glass bottles, mostly from homeless alcoholics. However, the grate to get up in the attic like portion of the old building is slid to the side. He remembers closing it last time, unless Alex set something up there for him to retrieve. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that she would do that as she has left pocket secretaries for him to read up on and do as what’s commanded on them. He’s tempted to call her just to confirm this.

Adam is about to tune into her frequency, seeing if will work this time, but is interrupted by shuffling above him. He knew it! Someone is up there! He gets in a defense position and calls out to the person above. Using his augmented vision to see a figure uncloak themselves and speak to them.

“Hey, man! Sorry for the scare. I had someone follow me. I used the last bit of my energy to cloak my way here. Hoping to find any _Biocell’s_ up here.” The voice changing microphone moves away from Delara’s mouth, manual cloaking mechanism is turned off.

How unusual. Alex never forgets to bring extra health supplies with her. She’s always on alert. Never would she come here to seek out a place to hide, puts the whole collective at risk. For all they know, the person of interest could be right outside the barricaded door now, recording and taping their conversation.

“Yeah. You can come down now.” Adam aims a _Nanoblade_ projectile at the shadow above him.

Delara keeps her cool, fiddling with the cloaking remote in her hand. Rubbing a thumb over the Tong trademark logo on the side. She needs a way to get down from here and carry out the plan. She places the microphone over her mouth again.

“Woah! Chill, man! What do you think you’re doing? Is your brain deprived of sugar? Put down the burning metal and let’s talk about why I’m here in the first place?” Delara is good at making her voice sound distressed. Years of dealing with patients has taught her many things, and one of them is how to catch someone faking they’re well enough to get out of going to a mental health facility. One time a patient succeeded and laughed and skipped their way through the parking lot. Died on the way home in a self-fatal car crash. Never again has Delara let people play their mental mind games on her.

Adam’s _CASIE_ shows the typical signs of high heart rate, possibly due to being currently threatened, but her voice shows no tremor of lies. He goes on his hunch. He shoots the heated blade at the wall. It explodes, leaving a black smoke in its wake. Delara uses her limited distraction time to cloak herself, drop down, and slowly makes her way around Adam. She must be very careful as there’s no silencer option on the cloaking device. 

Adam turns to face the invisible threat, she freezes. She’s merely inches away from Adam’s face, and if she makes any wrong moves then his _Quicksilver_ will force him to knock her out before she can get this gas launched in the room.

Adam looks up to find the person gone, giving Delara some time to fake a slip to where the vent is. “Hm…” He makes his way to the vent that he came in to find it closed and metal shutters lay behind them, preventing Adam from punching a hole in it. Not a problem for him. Adam pokes out another heated _Nanoblade_ and aims it at the locked vent.

Delara places a gas mask on her face. She needs to hurry. Moving quietly over to one of the boxes that’s blended in with the wall, she pulls out her cloaked mechanism again. It’s a small punch tube. Taking a deep breath, she rushes over to Adam. He hears her, turns around and aims the blade at her. He doesn’t have time to shoot, and Delara shoves his arm upwards. The blade explodes near his head, causing blunt force trauma to form a giant red mark that is slowly turning color and affecting his hearing. Blood is pouring out, causing his vision to blur.

Delara takes the tube and shoves the open part into Adam’s mouth. He starts to sputter and cough, his insides feel like they’re on fire. The next thing he knows his _Implanted Rebreather_ ruptures, and the choking starts to get worse. The mechanical lungs collapsing under their own weight with no support from the supportive mechanical bronchi. In other words, he can’t breathe.

Adam is wheezing, collapsing to one knee, trying to figure out how something like this could kill this part of his body. The rebreather should’ve instantly removed the toxin, not destroy a part of his breathing apparatus! They did more than just help with toxins! They helped hold his lungs in place!

Delara leans down on one knee, watching Adam suffocate to death. “Destroying one of your mechanical augmentations from the inside has to be the smartest play move my husband and your ex have ever figured out.”

Adam rolls over onto his back, eyes slowly closing, tears are forming at the corners. He tries to call out to MacReady, but his I-Link is damaged. The blast from earlier knocked the augmentation in his head out of commission. He keeps trying, memories are flashing on by. Happy ones of him and his husband at their wedding, kissing, to lying flat on his back as his other half males love to him. Adam’s never felt more at peace being under his husband and then in his husbands’ arms.

Delara moves away from Adam. Taking off the mask when machine monitoring the gas tells her there are no signs of the augmented killer agent to be in the air. “Stuffy in there. Are you not going to ask why Megan made such a thing?”

No. Adam rather focus his last remaining minutes on something happy. Finding out Adam could have children due to some experiment he suspects when he spent time in that Helix lab is the best thing to ever happen in his life. The horizontal c-section scar below his belly button proves to the world that happy life is happening around him. Holding his son for the very first time, and holding his husbands hand last are the last things to appear on his mind before darkness takes over and is standing before a beckoning white light.

_“Is the job done?” The disembodied voice is back._

_Delara moves her foot over to the lifeless body, kicking it to see if a cold hand would grab at her ankle. It didn’t. “Yes. He’s dead. I didn’t get dropped on my behind after risking a bit of kicking to his hand.”_

_“I told you that you have a strong natural leg.” He pulls up a screen to make the vent shutter disengage its lockdown. “You’re free to leave.”_

_“You said that about my arm. What about the body?” She makes her way out of the building, breathing in the fresh air before her. _

_He rubs his chin in annoyance. “You don’t think I haven’t figured that out? State police are on their way now to retrieve it. Head of the Prague division is going to call Director Miller directly to let them know that an accident had happened.” _

_Delara stops walking, ponders for a second, because she doubts her husband thought about the other problem. “What about MacReady?”_

_“As far as he’s aware, it’s an accident. Nothing else will come out of it. The coroner already knows what to do with the body to make it look as such. End of story. I need you back at work; in order to confirm an alibi for you, make sure to bring that lunch dish from that salad place you love so much.” He goes to end the call. _

_Delara nods in understanding, and then can’t help but whisper, “The Juggernaut is going to find out, you know.” _

_“Dead ends lead to dead ends, my dear. I’ll make sure their leader knows who to pin their next target on, without any derailing suspicion.” He ends the call._

The rain starts to fall as the sky mourns.

***

“MacReady!” Miller stands behind Mac with an armful of papers, trying to get him to turn away from the glass that’s facing the cold dead body of Adam Jensen to get him to fill out Prague’s version of bereavement leave. He needs Mac out of his hair as soon as possible before he ends up punching the glass in like he did with one of the bathroom mirrors at TF29.

Mac crosses his arms, hanging his head. He doesn’t care about the paperwork or the fact that his knuckles are red with miniature cuts on them.

Miller in frustration throws his body around Mac, covering the grieving man with his arms around his upper chest. The anger seeps out of both as they stand there with their eyes downcast and locked in each other’s necks, silently crying in one another’s company.

The medical examiner takes the necessary number of pictures of Jensen’s body, making sure to document the side of the head that has a malfunctioned CASIE as an unfortunate accident with a grenade explosion. They all knew how tough Adam’s skin is, and this the _Rhino Dermal Armor_ makes it impenetrable to close distance attacks, giving the person enough time to get themselves ready.

The funny part about Adam’s augmentations that Mac knows is he knows his husband, and he knows that man wouldn’t let himself get into such a position. Studying and learning about Adam’s augments gives him an advantage when something malfunctions and he’s well-prepared to bring Adam to his fixer when that happens. Knows that his rebreather would stop the gas from poisoning his system long enough to take out his attacker and get a _Biocell_ into him. The man never leaves home without at least a couple in his pocket. Says it’s for everyone’s protection, his family’s protection.

The other funny part is the medical report mentions nothing about the broken _implanted rebreather_ or collapsed metal lungs. Examination sheets have everything in place and lists the augmented damage in Jensen’s brain. Everything is in, out of perfect place for Miller, and just right for the man and woman pulling the strings behind the curtains. Not for MacReady though. He’s not that stupid. He can see the fear of the man behind his glass, hands shaking with all the dotting of the I’s and crossing of his t’s. He needs to stop pacing if he wants to look less suspicious.

Mac pulls away from Miller. “Thank you. Give me a few minutes to say good-bye then I’ll get right on that paperwork.”

“Good. I need you home and resting as soon as possible. TF29 will take care of the funeral arrangements. We lost a good member of the family today, Mac.” Miller places a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze of comfort, letting him know that he’s here for him and to lean on him whenever he wants.

Mac squeezes Miller’s hand back, watching him leave to take a phone call. Probably from Manderley to give him updates about the investigation. If there’s going to be one. State police handed it quickly over to the big boss without so much as a fuss. Strange for them to do that. It’s their territory this happened in. They could claim homegrown terror again or blame it on augmented citizens, saying they’re causing such attacks and traps, placing natural innocent lives in jeopardy.

“Fucking hell, Adam.” Mac places his hand on the glass, forehead leaning against it. He closes his eyes and ponders what he’s going to do from here. Arthur paid for Margie to fly out to Prague, despite her health condition worsening. She needs to be here for her son and family. All the support is going to be needed. They’ll help each other, Mac knows this. Just when he gets home, he’s going to hug his son even if his arms fall off from exhaustion, play with him till he passes out in the pile of his stuffed animals, watch him grow into a respectful young man, and graduate with an Adam Jensen smile on that stage with his high school diploma.

The door to the room opens and a loud crash is heard. Mac opens his eyes and looks to see the medical examiner has dropped his phone. The screen is cracked the light is dimming in and out, but the name is perfectly visible. That name is: Delara Auzenne. This is the woman that’s making the examiner nervous. Mac squints up at the guy, helping him pick up his phone. He thanks him and quickly bolts it.

_Delara pockets her phone. Perfect. Everything is in order. Jensen’s body is buried in a few days, and the illuminati have one less threat to deal with. Smiling to herself, she takes the bottle of fine wine and glass out of her drawer. No time like now for a celebration to go with this lunch of hers. _

_A chat message pops up._

_KingAmongGod: A bit too early for drinking, isn’t it? _

_Delara pours, her smile becomes wider. She tucks a stray hair behind her ear, sits back with her legs crossed, and watches as the man continues chatting away on her screen. _

_KingAmongGod: I wish to celebrate with you tonight, my dear. I have reservations to that one place you wanted to try out so badly. Booked the whole restaurant. _

_How delighted of him. Delara moves the glass in her hand, watching the red wine swirl around. “I can’t wait. Gives me a reason to wear that red dress with those high heels.”_

_KingAmongGod: As if you need a reason. _

_“No, but I like to place the mental thoughts of me in that dress in your head.” Delara smacks her lips, ending the chat. The man can wait a little longer. _

Miller comes back to see Mac is staring at the closed door to the morgue. “Mac?”

The body has been returned to its freezer. No longer lying on the table with a simple piece of sheet is covering the lower regions of the deceased.

Miller’s worried about his friend, but he dares not touch him. “take your time.”

They both stand there in complete silence. Miller has the worried look on his face, and Mac’s is full of quiet anger. After the funeral, he knows what he must do.

***

Rain comes and it goes at the most popular funerals in England. So Mac thinks, he’s standing over Adam’s casket, with an umbrella above him. Makes no difference to him if he has one or not, someone is always willing to provide him with another proverbial one. He doesn’t want to hear it from anyone, not even from the parents of their deceased child. They understand, hopefully, Arthur does. Margie needs a little time to comprehend all the trauma that’s happened to her son. They all need too. 

Mac looks around at the people who are here today. Friends from Adam’s SWAT and Sarif days, hopefully no backstabbers, acquaintances and people that lean a shoulder on him to let out their hardships from TF29, a woman with black and gold hair colors that he considers a working partner for a side project that he never had time to question about, and of course, his family who are holding each other, and wiping away one another’s tears.

What surprises him the most is that his ex-girlfriend, Megan Reed, is here, dressed in a black and white _Fleur-De-Lis_ styled mourning dress. The irises suit her, commemoration of Adam, no doubt. She’s standing next to Mac with no umbrella. Her fully body is drenched, making the irises shine a purple hue on the top of her shoulders. He can’t tell if she’s crying or not. Her hands are clutching onto a briefcase. Upon further inspection, he sees that one of her hands is handcuffed to it. Must be something important if she can’t bother to leave it at whatever hotel she’s staying at.

Still, he’s a gentleman. He places her umbrella under Megan’s head, not wanting her to catch a cold. No physical umbrella from the people who supposedly care for his wellness is over his head, sad for him as the proverbial kindness doesn’t extend out to physical objects. Some of ex-Sarif’s team are giving him questioning looks and shaking their heads, probably wanting to know why he’s helping such a horrible person. Mac glares at them, wanting to fully remind them that Sarif’s not innocent either. They’re both damned souls, but Megan is the one that showed up today to stand right next to him. Where’s David Sarif? 

Doesn’t matter. The sermon is over, words are spoken, music is playing as the dirt is being filled in, and Adam is given a soldier’s burial on the MacReady’s family plot of land. He deserves it. Adam is part of his family, and he wouldn’t have the funeral any other way. The parents had no objections. They want their son here. The sky is blue, there are tall hills all around, and there are white lilies that spread for what seems like miles. Everything shines when the rain doesn’t poke its ugly head out; however, without it then there wouldn’t be such a beautiful place.

Mac looks up at the sky. The rain is starting to clear, sun rays are poking their heads out through the darkness, and for a moment, things are peaceful. Closing his eyes, he thinks about what he’s going to do next. His son is being watched by one of his nieces. He’s thankful. He’s going to need all the help he can get from here on out. A lot of planning is coming his way, and he’s not sure how many waves there are going to be.

Megan stands there patiently, waiting for people to leave. She looks to her side to see the two-streak hair colored woman is side-eyeing a woman not too far off with a bit of worry and seems to be having a sub-vocal conversation with someone. She can’t make out any words, only hears slight incoherent mumbles. Mac is not paying attention to the woman he’s never actually met, only seen glimpses of. He figures she’s just another friend like Aria is to him.

Then another person in black shows up, stands right next to the hard to make out woman. He’s starting his conversation loudly, so people will recognize him, and a little too friendly from what the ex-employees can gather. He places a hand on the person’s shoulder and moving her away from the grieving people.

He wants everyone to know they’re up here and leaving. No, David Sarif, is loudly letting everyone know they’re leaving.

Nobody but the two-streakier understands.

_Sarif taps his finger away at the ongoing text he’s having with the other, also known as: Alex Vega, the one with the classy nickname. She’s talking subvocally to Sarif’s smartphone. Talking about how things are a bit mute as he didn’t attend the funeral as he wanted. Watching Delara off the side for the Juggernaut Collective is something that didn’t cross either of their minds today, but what Janus wants is what Janus gets._

_Vega: Are you having second thoughts about joining our team?_

_Sarif: No, but I still don’t understand what assets I can provide to such an…organization. _

_He uses “organization” lightly. Like any great one, there’s always going to be a downside to the benefits. _

_Vega: A dreamer with a realistic goal is always needed in an…organization._

_She’s playfully mocking him. Sarif smiles, still unbelieving, and then he’s interrupted. _

_Delara moves Sarif’s hand off her shoulder. “Excuse me, David. Did you mean to talk to me or someone on your phone?” She’s giving him the hint that he’s being rude. He either doesn’t notice or care. _

_Sarif turns to Delara. “I am sorry! I just noticed you walking up the hill, and couldn’t help but to find someone else who doesn’t like attend these things as…” He stops. Memories of what happened to many of his employee’s rush through his head. He only made a memorial for five of them and only one really died. So many people died that day that deserved better. _

_Delara picks up on his dark look. She gets it. Having to deal with the augmented little girl attending one of her sessions never left her either. Even when she had her mechanical hand wrapped around her throat. She nearly died, all the screams kicking in her head, then the gunshot. The one and only genuine feeling for someone outside of her husband that Delara had going for her. She loves helping children, they’re much more innocent than reckless adults. Just like Sarif, a reckless child on the inside. The need to listen to him opens in her mind. She doesn’t want to aim another gun at such people ever again. _

_Vega watches them go. She feels bad for placing Sarif in such a position. The man really does want to help Adam in his death and so does Megan. Although, Megan does not belong with the collective as she has her own secrets with Versalife. She’s too naïve at this stage. Not knowing what is going on for herself, or even the information she must give to MacReady will help them in their cause. They’ll have to wait and see. Hopefully her free and careless attitude doesn’t get Mac killed. The baby boy doesn’t need to lose both his parents. _

_Ding. Vega’s thoughts are interrupted by a familiar disembodied voice._

_Janus: Is the mission completed? _

_Vega: Yeah, man, it’s done. I don’t feel good about this. Pitting Sarif’s emotions against the snake? This is a timebomb!_

_Janus: There’s no other choice. A beyond broken man such as Sarif can make the worse villains open about their broken secrets. _

_Vega: This is unlike you to give up the information up to the window once Sarif’s finished his own recording. _

_Janus: We stay in the dark and Duncan MacReady gets his revenge. _

_Alex doesn’t like any of this. She must swallow the vomit forming in the pit of her stomach. They knew for a while that Delara is part of the illuminati, but they had no way of knowing how to raise the suspicion to benefit for themselves. After accusing Miller of possibly being part of it, they must make sure that every detail within TF29 is down to the t. There can be no mistakes. _

_This doesn’t make her feel any less shitty that they only made an offer to David Sarif to join their collective, so that they can use him to gather dirt through used up emotions. _

_It sucks._

Megan watches Alex leave. Turning her head, she gives Mac a small smile. “I have something for you that’ll ease a bit of your pain and- “

Mac gripes up, “You don’t know what will ease my pain! How dare you assume- “

Megan holds up her hand. “Please let me finish.”

Mac bites his lip. He can see now why people give her such nasty glares, but he lets her continue. After all, his curiosity about what’s in the case is plaguing his head, and the fact that she’s giving him a bit of the creeps still standing under that umbrella when it’s no longer raining, and the sun is in fact, shining. It’s not a parasol!

“Thank you. I wanted to say that what I have will feed your hunger for revenge on Delara Auzenne.” She stops, taking a bit in to see what Mac’s facial expression will say next.

Mac turns to see two of Adam’s friends come to join him, wanting to give their grievances personally.

Megan continues to talk, “An expert hacker and pilot can come in handy for what you’re planning.”

The two exchanges questionable looks towards one another.

“Maybe even a certain mad engineer?” Megan coos a hint towards Vaclav Koller. Adam’s personal aug technician.

Mac takes it. He’ll take whatever he can to get back at the witch. Number one suspect must be right on the dot when someone else knows what kind of person they are, right? A single doubt hangs in the back of Mac’s head: how can he trust her? This could all be some elaborate trap that Delara has set up. The looks she’s laying off like wildfire are too far past innocent when there’s far too little sadness and more revenge glee. The real reason? He can’t bring himself to like her much less trust her, but he’s going to do both anyways. After all, they do have the same goals.

“Perfect!” Megan turns to the two confused compadres. “Faridah? Pritchard? Would you two like to join us for a cup of coffee? We have some things we want to talk about that I am sure you two would love to hear!”

_The chat is done. Sarif lets Delara know that she can talk to him anytime she wishes and vice versa. They’ve just became great acquaintances, no, friends, today, and the fake-kindred friendship needs to grow into comfort, so she’s easily manipulated later down the road. _

_He opens her limo door for her, offering her a hand to step inside. She smiles at him with acceptance. Such a fine gentleman that one is. She really should’ve taken the lunch offer up, but what would her husband say? Honestly, she doesn’t care. They don’t go out to lunch that much anyways. Too full of himself and stuck on his stupid ideology of becoming king of the world someday. _

_Her thoughts are snapped away when Sarif closes the door and waves to her. She waves back till the car is out of sigh. Damn, that man really is something. _

_Sarif stops waving, pulls out his phone, and sends the recording to Janus, hoping that this is what he wants. This is all their goal after all, take whatever they can of the illuminati down now, and watch the core members crumble themselves to pieces on the inside. _

_This better be worth missing someone’s, who’s basically they consider their own son, funeral. _

***

The table is full of silence, minus the tapping of Megan’s fingertips against the briefcase. Malik looks at her with a little bit of worry, thinking that the woman is going to have a nervous breakdown any moment with how bad she’s shaking her head. Pritchard is ignoring the two, sipping his decaffeinated coffee and eating away at his eggs over easy. Mac is covering his ears, trying to drown out the tiniest noises around him as he’s trying to think.

Megan stops when she hears a honk outside, making her jump in her seat. She places her palm against her forehead and takes in a few deep breaths in and out. This place is really making her on edge. Malik places a comforting hand on Megan’s shoulder. She doesn’t like her guts right now, but if Sarif can redeem himself in some odd Sarif way, as he has shown today, then Megan can do the same thing. She just needs a little push in the right direction. How to do that? With an order of hot chocolate!

Malik signals over one of the waiters. “Oh, waiter! May my friend here have a cup of your finest hot chocolate, pretty please?”

Megan looks at the waiter, he’s eyeing her with a stare that needs no repeating. She shrinks down when he’s gone. Malik turns to see that the fidgety squirrel is halfway under the table, trying to disappear. Pritchard looks down at her with confusion. What is going on with her now? He slowly looks up from his food when the waiter has returned with the hot chocolate. He’s still wearing that blank stare, doesn’t even flinch when he sets a folded piece of paper in front of Megan, with the hot chocolate placed on top.

Pritchard goes to raise his voice for concern, “Excuse me? What is the meaning of these awkward stares and unblinking eyes?”

The waiter places a finger on his lips and signals outside with his eyes that someone’s out there. Mac looks up from his position and takes a quick peek to see there’s a black limousine outside. The obvious tinted windows prevent them from seeing who’s inside, but this young man knows? Mac doesn’t have any idea what’s going on here! He slams his fist on the table in frustration, causing Pritchard’s plate to spill the remaining eggs on his lap when his plate wobbled.

“Hey!” Pritchard glares at Mac. “I hope you’re going to pay for my dry cleaning!”

Mac ignores him. He turns to see the waiter is gone. What a convenience that all of this seems to be happening on a day they should all be mourning! He looks over to Megan to see that she’s reading the paper, her hands are shaking. She fumbles with it, quickly throwing it in her purse, while mumbling incoherent things that might signify that she’s going to have to call a cab to take her to the airport. All the while, secretly dipping into her coat pocket, pretending she’s lost her wallet to pay for her meal.

“Oh! I am so sorry, but I can’t pay for my hot chocolate. My hands can’t seem to find my wallet!” Megan lets out a fake laugh, pleading with her eyes to the other three to go along with it. She’s clearly trying to find something here.

Mac gets the hint first; he pulls out his wallet to check how many credits he needs for a simple drink. They haven’t received their separate tickets yet to determine how much the price is. He signals for the waiter again, hoping no unblinking eyes this time. The waiter comes back with one ticket, handing it to Mac. He points to Pritchard, eyeing him that he’s being a cheapskate. Mac stares at the waiter. Now, it’s his turn to look at him like a Facebook CEO. He’s not paying for Pritchard’s runny meal! It’s eggs! Now red food coloring!

Megan is thankful the waiter showed up at the right time. She pulls out a key, hiding it in her palm. She sips the hot chocolate with the same palm, slowly maneuvering the cup within her hand. Being extra careful with her drink or not. The drink spills all over the top. She quickly backs into the booth. Her hands in the air, more incoherent babbling about how all her papers could possibly be wet! The waiter takes this as an opportunity to get out of sight before Mac grills him with the spy questions.

Malik pulls out napkins from the dispenses. “Really, Megan? Can you be more careful with your drink? You’re not the only one here who has lost some of their senses.”

Megan takes the napkins, not even bothering to reply to Malik’s remark. She’s doing this on purpose, if anyone else can pick up on it. Pulling out multiple files, opening them up to clean up the blank pages. A decoy. There’s nothing in the briefcase but a lot of lined paper with story ideas attached to then. No science notes, no top secret classified files on whatever project is currently being worked on at _Versalife_, or even anything about Adam Jensen. Not even a false bottom! The only emotion she’s displaying is distraught as she lays her story papers out on the table.

“I am working on a story. A fantasy one about where people go when they die.” Megan glares at the chocolate stains on one sheet. Hard to make out the words here and regrets pulling that stunt.

Pritchard looks over at the mess. “Really? I never pegged you for the religious type.”

Megan crosses her arms over her chest. “Like you assumed that Adam and I weren’t having a moment in the elevator before you showed up?”

Pritchard mumbles into his eggs, “God bless your soul, I am not even sorry for what happened to you.”

Megan ignores him. She picks up the first piece of paper, and starts to read from it, squinting at some parts she couldn’t make out, “Planet Ashhoe, great eternity in…. I’m sorry, Mac, can you read this next word?”

Mac leans in, not even sure why he’s entertaining the woman here. She’s clumsy, full of shit, and he just wants to go home to his son. He slams the credit chip down on top of the check and pushes it off to the side. Damn the waiter when he comes back. He can keep the change, so no one must look at his two-faced snake emotions on that snake oily face. He looks back at the paper.

“Serenity. The word is ‘serenity’. This is very cliché! Just stick with science, please!” Mac throws his hands out in front of him, not understanding why they’re reading this nonsense!

Malik goes to Megan’s defense. “I think it’s cute! Maybe it’s where Jensen is!”

Megan looks over to Malik, with a please in her eyes. “Do you want to read what I wrote? I could always use some constructive criticism.”

“Of course!” Malik snatches the paper out of Macready’s hand before he rolls it in a ball and tosses it at her head. She starts the reading from the start, “Planet Ashhoe, great eternity in serenity done endeavor…ingly? Megan! Is this even a word?”

Megan looks over it to see that the it’s supposed to say endeavoring. She sighs and realizes this sentence doesn’t make any sense. Not that it matters. She’s hoping that someone here would read into the words! It’s not that hard! She’s put a lot of thought into this, so no one could guess it! Purposely having grammar mistakes! She’s a scientist! Not a proofreader for high school English! That’s not fully true. She needs to find a better excuse for this to retain her cover.

“Sorry! I only started writing this recently, and Adam’s death….” She looks down, making tears form in her eyes for the damn limousine outside. She hates doing it like this. She wants to really mourn but to stay face has a mean cost.

Pritchard takes the paper out of Malik’s hands and reads the words off with ease and with the correct grammar, “Planet Ashhoe, great eternity in serenity done endeavoring light. There should be a ‘with’ after ‘done’.”

Megan palms her forehead. “Of course! I can do science well enough but not a simple sentence to a story.”

Pritchard squints at the next few words, ignoring Megan’s fake outcry. “As right a’s honored, us sure believe a now behind…. ok, I need a red pen to mark through all this, and it’s just the first sentence! How do you expect me to read this?”

_Planet Ashhoe, great eternity in serenity done endeavoring light. As right a’s honored, us sure believe a now behind. _

Pritchard mentally rechecks everything and adds some words in it that would make more sense than it does now! Oh no! This is not just! He demands for the waiter to come back and produce a red pen! He does with an unblinking smirk. No one’s writing can be this bad! He needs to separate the words to figure out if any conjunctions, adverbs, or maybe another direct object needs to be added.

_Planet_  
Ashhoe,  
Great (**add an “a”! – Pritchard**)  
Eternity  
In  
Serenity  
Done (**with, woman! – Pritchard**)  
Endeavoring  
Light.  
As  
Right  
A’s (**Why’s there a ‘s here?! Remove the ‘ immediately! I can’t stand this! Wait! Why is as here anyways?! Wait! Forget it! Just add “the” before right! Ignore I am just now saying this! – Pritchard**)  
Honored  
Us (**Is someone being interrupted here? This is the only way I can make sense of this – Pritchard**)  
Sure (**Points taken off for lack of coma’s!! – Pritchard**)  
Believe  
A (**For the…word play…there needs to be a “in” before the “a”! – Pritchard**)  
New  
Day. (**For the love of God! I quit! – Pritchard)**  
  
“This is the worst attempt at a Shakespeare poem I’ve ever seen! Please stick with science, Megan!” Pritchard hands it back to her, all stained with red marks.

_Planet Ashhoe, a great eternity in serenity done with endeavoring light. As the right honored us—sure, believe in a new day. _

Malik looks over at the corrected sentence. She takes the pen out of Pritchard’s hand and places a comma after the word serenity with a laughing smiley face tagged on at the end. “Missed an error. Ten points deduced from Pritchard’s house!”

Megan, full of annoyance grabs the pen out of Pritchard’s hand. “No! I liked it my way!” She takes the pen and underlines the first letter of each word with hard underlines. She’s no longer playing these games.

_**P**lanet **A**shhoe, **g**reat **e**ternity **i**n **s**erenity **d**one **e**ndeavoring **l**ight. **A**s **r**ight **a**’**s** **h**onored, **u**s **s**ure **b**elieve **a** **n**ew **d**ay. _

Pritchard’s anger subsides. “Oh…Oh! Oh my God, you’re right! This is so much better! I am so sorry, Megan. I should’ve NEVER doubted you!”

Megan ignores his deadpan manner. “For a guy who writes TV pilots sure can’t pick up on the English language himself.”

Mac looks over to see what’s going on. How quaint his mood turned; dark and looks like he’s ready to jump up at any moment to see what the Hell is going on outside just to get everyone to shut up! Megan touches his knee to get him to not do anything rash. The people are still people outside, and the slightest movement he makes could lead them all to their deaths.

Malik distracts them with Megan’s briefcase shenanigans. After all, the people outside are going to want to know why this is handcuffed to her! “Why the briefcase? Is that million-dollar paper?”

“In fact it is!” Megan pulls out the paper that have _Versalife’s_ logo in the top right.

“Wow, I thought…wow.” Malik can’t believe her distraction is a real distraction!

Megan closes it back up and locks it. She takes Malik’s hand into her as she turns her back to face the window. This way nobody can see her face and read her lips. “I need a ride out of here and back to the airport. I think those people are trying to kill me.”

Mac folds his hands over his face and peeks out in between a finger to see what’s happening. There’s nobody or a car there? He turns to Pritchard to see he’s being moody over his eyes, but he quickly side-eyes Mac to let him know that he’s listening.

Malik doesn’t say another word. “Girl! Before you go, we really need to check out the stores here! We’re in England, love! Let’s do some shopping!” She kicks Pritchard out of the booth and drags Megan with her, fists pumping in the air the whole way out.

Pritchard gets back in his seat. “How rude to leave me here!”

The waiter comes back, stares at the two. Mac points to the credit chip at the edge of the table. Smiling, he takes it, whistling the whole way back to the register. He doesn’t even bother to bring back the card, knowing full well he now must run back to the collective leader before anyone notices.

_The waiter rubs at his black hair, traces of it falling out to reveal brunette underneath. “Jesus, Janus! What have you got me doing? I looked like an unblinking asshole!_

_Janus: JL, your actions will have consequences for slipping that note to Reed. Your mission is to observe and get intel. Not give out warnings. Megan Reed knows full well what she’s getting into. _

_“Is that how you think, boss?” JL opens a bag hanging off a shelf. Replacing the waiter outfit and name badge with a white shirt, brown kaki’s, and a brown coat. Looking good for someone who’s about to be on the run. _

_Janus: I am protecting the interests of the collective. If anyone is in inherent danger, I would’ve asked you to remove everyone from that table and to the back. _

_“Oh, sure, like you really give a damn.” JL smacks the side of his head, his left eye went a little static on him. Probably from Janus to prove a point._

_Janus: I can see the conversation through your lens, JL, and I need you to run, now. _

_JL takes the hint. He’s gone. _

Mac looks at the other waiters and waitresses and screams out, “I Want my change!”

***

Having a humorous lunch needed a bit of work. Right now is a time to grieve not play around and try to find life’s happiness. Snorting, Mac closes his suitcase, last of his clothes are removed and thrown in a dirty pile on the ground. He needs to do his laundry. He has plenty of time to do it, no rush when there’s a screaming baby demanding for attention right across the hall. Kicking the clothes more to the side, he makes sure he’s not going to be tripping all over them at 2 AM. The bottle rave is going to need his full attention span and not an unsurprisingly visit to the emergency room.

Too bad Arthur and Margie had to leave. Margie started feeling unwell again, and she needed to see her doctor as soon as possible. Mac understands. When it comes to mental health, it needs to come first. Being in the desert so long, seeing all his comrades waking up screaming in the middle of the night, he’s unsure when he’s going to get PTSD himself. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, he sees his best friends in front of him, laughing, having a beer, and then their arms start moving out of control. Reaching for MacReady’s arm, trying to rip it out of its socket. Soldier and civilian screams can be heard in the background, then three shots ring out, three brother-in-arms fall face first on the table.

Tragic as this all is, the baby still wants to be fed! He continues to scream into Mac’s arms. Mac looks down at him. He gets it. He screams like this as well when he doesn’t get his warm formula in the middle of the night. Laughs at his own mental joke. He makes his way to the kitchen, warms up a bottle and waits for the soft humming to turn into a beep. Staring at the clock doesn’t make the time pass any faster. He starts to think about the horrible story Megan left for them. Delara is Robert Page’s life? The Page’s wife? Unbelievable. He should’ve looked over her records like he did with Adam’s when he first started at TF29, but of course, like any good foot soldier to the man, he blindly followed orders and questioned nothing. Just like Miller did, and it nearly got him killed.

When one stops questioning logic, then the one knows he’s willing to follow a blind eye to a puppeteer’s success. The puppeteer being Page or is it Delara in this special case? Who’s controlling who here? He scratches his chin and shakes his head. It’s too late at night to think about this shit. He waves his hand off to no one in particular, maybe to the plastic fruit bowl that he never liked. The beeping sounds. Thank God! He opens the microwave, takes the bottle out, and tests it on his wrist. Perfect temperature for a not-so-even tempered lung fest.

“Alright, let me force this down your throat, so you don’t blow your little lungs out, ok?” Mac places the nipple top in the babies’ mouth, watching him drink with little to no fuss.

While he eats, Mac opens his laptop that’s sitting on the kitchen table. He might as well check some personal e-mails to see if Miller sent him any homework to do while he’s out on leave. Is there anything important? Two for one coupon that really make you buy more than you should, penis enlargement scams, chicks trying to bone him, a Nigerian prince asking for money (how does this same guy keep getting passed the blocker? It’s even using the same exact e-mail!), and his new found favorite: free link to free diapers! Who can pass on free diapers?! He clicks on it, only as a joke, and it links him to a shared-protected online download that has his name right next to it! It’s even in the link! That’s strange. Some spam bot really went to this much length to get him to download a virus? It even left an audio message under the downlink file! Should he click it?

“The smart thing would be to run an online virus scan.” Mac clicks his virus protocol; it pops up an error message. Now he knows this virus is fucking with him.

What about the curiosity? It’s a personalized virus just for him. How can he ignore the invitation? Like he can anyways, the thing is messing with his computer anyways. The mouse is moving on its own as if someone’s hacked into his computer system to force the message to play. This better not be a red room ad for UK’s version of a Huggies diaper.

_Duncan MacReady, you have no reason to trust me after the computer hacking. I do apologize, but I needed to grab your attention. It’s about the information you received today from Megan Reed. Before you act, no, this is not the waiter from the diner or the person in the limousine. My name is Janus, and I am with the Juggernaut Collective. _

There’s a pause. Purposely intended for Mac to gather his thoughts.

_I am sorry for your loss. Adam Jensen—he’s a good team member and a good acquaintance—no friend to one of the members of our society. _

Pause. Adam Jensen use to be part of the _Juggernaut Collective_. He never told MacReady.

_He wanted to protect you. He knew you wouldn’t take the news very well, and I am sure you’re in stunned silence right at this moment. I can’t afford for you to be like that right now. This message is going to delete itself five minutes after it’s finished playing. That’s a graceful time period for you to gather yourself together to willingly choose to download the link. You don’t, then I will be forced to use this information myself to get back at the woman who killed your husband. I am giving you a chance of revenge. Please act quickly. There’s not much time. _

The message ends and a countdown appear. What should he do? Mac places his hands in his head and tries to wrap this around. He had planned to sneak into Delara’s office when he came back from leave to find out more information about her, but this guy just willingly handed it to him without any sort of compensation! That is a bold move. He could turn his laptop in to Chang and make his heart sore with glee to let him know that Janus contacted him personally, but that would be a very shitty thing to do. It’s not every day classified information about another user flies magically into his lap. He should take it. He stares at the clock again, 30 seconds…15…10…9…8…3…2-click! It’s downloaded.

Mac lets out a sigh of relief. He has control of his mouse again. Looking through the download folder on his laptop he sees a folder named: SarifDelaraTranscript.pdf. He opens it up to see it’s a conversation between Sarif and Delara. There are even pictures with a video file in their respective folders. Chang would be through the roof if he had his hands on this gold mind. Let’s see what these photos have to offer.

_Photos from a recorded video._

_Photograph 1: Delara’s start of week 1 of the 13-week session with the augmented little girl before the augmented incident. The child looks nervous, the woman looks like she’s ready to help. _

_Photograph 2: Delara’s end of week 11 session right at the start of the aug incident. The little girl is on top of Delara with her hands around the woman’s neck. She looks like she’s screaming and crying all the same. _

That’s it. Not much Mac can use here. He already knows about Delara’s trauma with the girl. It would be crazy to…exploit it under different circumstances. He flips to the recorded video.

_Recorded video: Delara is at her wedding reception, jumping and dancing in joy with her husband: Bob Page. All sorts of people are around them. Only Joseph Manderley can MacReady pick out of the crowd. Everyone’s clapping and cheering them on. All holding drinks and talking about all kinds of things. All from politics to the weather. What an odd bunch these people are. Not with their conversations but how everything feels misplaced. This doesn’t look like a normal wedding. _

MacReady ends the video. Why did Janus show him the recording? There’s nothing to exploit here. Being married to a multi-billionaire is nothing unusual. Unless the person is an old granny marrying a mid-30’s slick-back-hair white guy. Mac looks down to his baby for answers.

“What do you think?” Mac pats the sleeping boy on his stomach. He ends up cooing in his sleep before turning over. Yeah, that’s what he thinks too.

Mac closes the files for the night. He’ll have to read the transcript in the morning when his brain is not clouded with condensed fog. Standing up, rubbing his eyes of sleep, he brings his baby boy to his crib. Giving him a kiss on the forehead before tucking him in under his rocket ship blanket. Smiling down, he leans over the crib, listening to the mobile above. Putting them both into a thoughtful slumber.

_Koller looks at the file that appears on his computer. “What? From Janus himself? Why! He must’ve heard about my latest augmentation hack trick!”_

_Sarcasm works wonders when he has no idea what he’s about to get himself into. He opens the file, sees a set of instructions. “What? No!”_

_He’s pale, backs away, hitting a cart of his contents, causing things to fall onto the blood splatter on his floor. _

_“I don’t do that anymore. Jensen took care of the Dvali thugs! Why do I have to do this again?” Koller goes back to his computer, a fist hitting the table. _

_Damn these computer hackers! Koller sneers out and clicks away. Things are starting to make a turn for the worse. He tries to talk his way out of the situation with more cons then there are pros. _

_Cons: “This will not avenge Jensen! He’ll only toss and turn in his grave! The boy will be without a father! I’ve never actually met the military jargon man! What if he’s evil and tries to lop my head off? What if Page tries to chop my head off? My beautiful hair is too pretty to be used as a shoe shine stand!” Koller rubs at his hair. _

_Pros: “I did miss Jensen’s funeral! He needs justice! This is one less illuminati agent to deal with! We get to see if Page has a heart! The fake Eliza on PICUS news would cover it 24/7! Then again, she might twist it to make Page look like a sad puppy victim! Perfect! That would make him look weak and laughable to the other members of the council! I’ll do it!” Koller raises a finger in the air._

_But first, he needs to make his connections to his laptop more secure so people like Janus don’t hack his systems ever again. He likes his valuable puppy and aug information to be kept classified! _

Mac wakes up the next morning to check his e-mail. The previous e-mail and link have been deleted from all accounts including browsing history. He wishes to be tech savvy enough to recover such things.

***

Morning is here. 6 AM the usual wake up time for Mac, and 2 AM for the baby when he wants his bottle. Lucky for Mac today is his lucky day! His generous son let him sleep in for four extra hours. He’ll need to thank him today with extra change in his piggy bank. Ignoring the fact that he’s secretly bribing him, this will make the boy more independent from his family when he wants to move out. Raise them right, and they won’t crawl back to you for money when they want to move out at 16 years old when they don’t get something they want. Baby boy seems to disagree, he just coos and giggles when Mac comes in with a nice little bottle of formula.

“Don’t leave till you’re at least 16 and a half, ok?” Mac picks him up, changes him first, and then sits down in the rocking chair in the room to feed him. Seems a little cliché for him, but Adam always mentioned that his mother would sit in a rocking chair and read him stories. Mac can’t picture himself with his rough and tough face reading out of a children’s book about a brave little toaster to a baby. He knows he’ll eventually have to do it, but God dammit, he will put this cuteness off for as long as he could.

“You think Uncle Jim would read you stories?” Mac tickles the baby’s belly, making him giggle more. “Do you want to visit Uncle Jim today? Maybe Susie and Ethan will be over. They loved playing with you last time!”

Last time? Oh, yes, LAST TIME, Miller told him to find somebody else, because this little angel wouldn’t stop crying for the massive five hours, he supposed to be using to visit his own kids didn’t happen. Never again Miller told him. Who else is there? Aria would be the logical next guess with the way she helped raised her nieces and nephews, but she’s working double right now to help the CT department. All of Adam’s friends and acquaintances are in Detroit, and he’s unsure if he should trust Pritchard with anything that involves flesh and organs with the way he treats people or Malik as she might skydive off a cliff with the baby strapped to her. The bookstore workers at _The Time Machine_? He trusts them more than Smiley or Chang. Smiley would show him off to Sonia on a random date, and Chang would see if the baby is wiretapped with collective chips. God knows all Hell broke loose when Chang discovered that whisper chip a couple of years after it’s been implanted. Passwords were changed every two hours! A nightmare!

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Mac perks his head up. Someone’s at his door. He places Paul back down in the crib, blinking away a wave of tears when the tiny baby latches onto his thumb, not wanting him to leave the room just yet. Mac assures him he’ll be back; kisses the top of his son’s head and tucks him under his blanket and makes sure his favorite toy is next to him.

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Mac shakes his head in annoyance. “I’m coming! Let me get a robe on!”

He hasn’t even had his coffee yet and someone is already wanting a yelling today. Opening the door he goes to speak his mind when he sees the two-hair streaky girl looking at him nervously and needs a cup of coffee herself. He’s interested why she’s here considering they didn’t get a chance to talk at the burial. Stepping aside he lets her in, peering outside to make sure no one else is about to come knock on his door at this ungodly hour. No one seems to be in his line of sight, but he can’t help but shake a feeling that someone might be watching them from a faraway distance.

“Name’s Alejandra Vega, you can call me Alex.” She takes off her coat and places it on the coat rack. It’s a chilly morning! Rubbing her arms she turns to look at Mac. He’s still staring outside as if he’s caught in the headlights.

“Were you followed?” Mac closes the door and turns to face her.

Alex tenses up. She hasn’t had a follower since Adam’s death. Did the stalker pick up her track again? She’s a bit on the anxious side to bring MacReady into her lifestyle, but Janus has already contacted him, forcing him to be a part of something he will not want anything to do with. Mac is aware that Adam is now an ex-member of the _Juggernaut Collective_, and unavoidably, her problems are now his problems. Clicking her tongue, she peeks outside. The sun is coming up, no one is in sight but the birds singing their morning tune.

“No. No one is out there.” She closes the door. A hand is on her chin trying to think into the situation. Adam’s death must have triggered a setback. Careful calculations on how to tail are for certain individuals of the illuminati. Another Miller accident that’s been successful. Someone’s not happy in the case of Adam Jensen. Furrowing her brows she bites the tip of her finger, she’s about to tell Mac when the crying starts.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Mac leaves to check on his son. Alex instinctively follows, curious if anything.

She’s always been fond of babies. Growing up with a big family in Panama taught her a lot about family values and care. Mostly babies and toddlers she worked with, being the oldest out of the bunch. Her aunts always commenting on her worth ethic and good sister abilities. She wears the reward proudly. Leaning over the crib, she watches the baby cry, curious what he needs. Mac is reaching into the crib, steadily wrapping the baby in the blanket, bringing him to his chest, rocking him, hoping the boy goes back to sleep soon.

Alex picks up the stuffed toy and hands it to Mac. “A strong stuffed moose. Peculiar for a baby.”

“Adam made the mistake of showing him the stuffed animal section at the toy store. He just had to have this ugly, googly eye looking thing.” Mac grimaces.

“kids are great. They find the love in the weirdest of things.” Alex checks out the room. So pretty and very decorative. She wonders who thought of what designs and colors first. Everything’s so calm and peaceful.

Mac snorts and makes kissy faces with the moose on top of the boy’s nose. “I don’t like having a screamo party at 2 AM. I don’t wish to be a part of _The Used_ anytime soon.”

Alex looks at the state MacReady is in. The man has a tough emotional complex he likes to hide behind those eyes of his. He’s not a bad person. An old heartfelt is what MacReady is. He can boast his hard attitude to the world, but for people like Jensen? He’s learned to come down from that, diffuse situations, and learn when not to be hot and bothered by something small and insignificant. He’s a father now who just lost his husband due to unseen circumstances. That psychiatrist needs to pay. Mac needs time to mourn for his husband, not worry about avenging him, but this is what Janus wants. Something she’s not on board with, not all the way. She still needs some convincing. 

Mac places the calm child back in the crib. “There you go and here’s Mr. Moosey Moose.”

“Moosey Moose?” Alex quirks an eyebrow at how ridiculous the name is.

“I’m sorry, Miss Alex. I need to remind myself why I invited a stranger in here? You give off bad vibrations, and I don’t mean the good kind down my spine. And that’s MR. Moosey Moose to you! The guy at the checkout made sure I said MR.!” Mac shakes his shoulders for clarification and a sigh of satisfaction knowing he finally said that to somebody else! 

“Alex is just fine, MacReady.” She follows him outside of the room and they head for the kitchen.

Mac opens the fridge, pulls out the cheapest beer he has, tossing one can to Alex. She catches it and grimaces at how bad it tastes; the fizz even gets all over her shirt. Mac lets out a chuckle. She’s not one to hold down any kind of alcohol if she gets disgusted and easily dirtied by these. He sits on a barstool by the island counter and motions for her to sit in front of him. She does, pushing the can way off in the distance, doesn’t even want it near her.

Alex starts off, “As you probably guess, I am with the _Juggernaut Collective_.”

Mac answers with a deadpan tone, “You don’t say.”

“I guess the e-mail you received yesterday gave it away?” Alex holds out her hands to assure her that she’s right. Janus didn’t mention to her that he suspected he knew.

“No. Unsurprising visits and e-mails put the hammer on the nail.” He takes another sip before continuing, “I am to see Vaclav Koller today. Show him the photographs and the transcript. Where do we go from there? I don’t know. I still need to find a babysitter for Paul.”

Alex rests her hands on the table and gives him a smile. “That’s why I’m here! Janus wants me to watch your baby while you do your business.”

Mac glares at her, crushing the empty can in his hand. “Absolutely not, lady. I’ve only known you for five minutes, and I can already see through you and your boss! You might want to watch him because you love babies but Janus? If I die, then he’s going to have you take him far away! Never being able to see his grandparents and Uncle Jim ever again!”

Alex holds her hands up in defense. “He would do it to protect your family! If he sends your baby off to live with Arthur and Margie, then who knows what the illuminati will do! They could kill them now back in Detroit, and you wouldn’t even know about it!”

“I would when no one would call! Arthur and Margie always call every Wednesday at a specific time!” Mac tries to go into more details, but his mouth is covered by Alex’s hand.

Alex places her finger on her lips. She side-eyes to the window on her left. Mac turns to the window to hear rustling and footsteps. He sneers, knowing that they may go after the baby. The two silently get up and go to the babies’ room. Thankfully all the doors are locked. Alex cloaks herself to see where the rustling is going. She follows it to the backdoor in the living room. Mac wishes he had his pistol on him right now, but it’s secured under his bed. He doesn’t want to risk leaving the babies side or carrying the baby with him to safety while toting a gun. If he must fire a gun this close to the child’s hearing then permanent damage will be done, but his baby won’t be kidnapped or dead. Last resort are the hard objects in the room he could use as a weapon.

Someone is out on the deck. Alex can hear them stomping around out there. Not too subtle for one who wants to sneak in. She pulls out her stun gun, making sure it’s loaded. Making her way to the side, she pops a _Biocell_ for a full recharge. Taking a deep breath, she pulls back a hanging blind to see who’s out there. There’s a man wearing a black suit, holding onto his own pistol, aiming down the sites at the pool before him. He looks like he’s talking to someone on his cellphone. She can’t make out what he’s mumbling about nor does she care. Slowly opening the door while he’s distracted, she manages to get outside and stun the guy. Watching him fall to the ground, phone lodged across the grass. Alex makes her way to it, picking it up to see the call has ended.

“Bob Page?” Alex contacts Janus immediately. “Janus, we have a situation. Bob Page put a hit on MacReady. I am taking him and the baby to one of our safe houses.”

_The body needs to be removed from the premises. Did you catch what they were talking about? _

“What? Oh, no. I didn’t.” Alex doesn’t think any of this matter right now when all their lives are on the line! “We need to move. I’ll help Mac pack a diaper bag for his son.”

Mac comes out with his baby in hand. “What’s going on? Who are you talking to?”

“No time to explain. We need to move.” Alex rushes to the baby room and packs as many things as he could. “Grab any files you have on your target. We can’t afford to leave any evidence behind.”

_A few of my men are on the way to move the body. Hurry. Pages backup are pulling up around the corner. I am going to hack a drone to force it to “malfunction” to give you time to escape. _

Alex doesn’t need to be told twice. They’re out in Mac’s car and sped out of there before Janus could even mention a few drones flying in to check on the ruckus. Alex takes the baby out of Mac’s lap and fastens him in his car seat. The last thing Alex sees are the drones swooping around the place before one shoot at something moving. She’s not going to be surprised if Janus calls more back up and says they’re getting rid of the drones and the bodies. No loose ends can be left behind.

Mac looks in the review mirror, “I am driving to Koller’s place. We’re going to put an end to this once and for all.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Alex looks down at the baby, watching him coo curiously at her. She lets out a small laugh. “How innocent is this little man?”

“If you say that again I am throwing you out this car.” Mac looks upon the countryside, doubting he’ll be able to return to his house when this is all over.

Alex sits back in her seat, buckling up. “What’s his name?”

“Paul Denton MacReady.” Mac smiles at the strong names Adam has chosen. No doubt when he grows up, he’ll be strong with a name like that. After all, his daddy is too.

_Janus men arrive after the drones have left and they started making things look like an “accident”. JL is scratching his head at the mess in the backyard. Looks like a tornado plodded right through everything. _

_Janus: Lebedev, eyes where I say they go._

_“I’m supposed to be in hiding, boss. This supposed to be hiding?” JL walks inside to see the place is untouched. “They didn’t get in, good. What are we looking for?”_

_Janus: I am looking into it right now. _

_“Of course you are.” JL walks around the house, gun pointed at all possible ends. He’s not taking any chances when it comes to anything the illuminati spits at them._

_Janus: Found it. Under the master bed. There’s a file locked away in a hidden compartment. I need you to pull it out and tell me what it says. _

_“Will do, boss.” JL salutes the invisible camera outside. He knows Janus is hacking some sorry drone that didn’t make it out of the fire. _

_He goes to the master bedroom and goes under the bed. He finds the electronic lock. Pulling out a multi-tool he uses it to unlock the level 5 key coded box. He opens it to find a folder with a single document in question. It’s faded and burned on two of the edges. He pulls himself from underneath the bed to get a better look at it. No, he still can’t read it. _

_Janus: It’s Adam Jensen’s official birth certificate. _

_JL lets out a loud sigh. “You say that as if you’ve known this the whole time.” Off to the bookstore he goes. He just wants to get one day to rest in peace where he’s not running like a wanted fugitive or fake working. How hard is this for him to achieve? _

Mac pulls up in front of the bookstore. Alex unbuckles the Paul from the car seat. Ready to face the day and hopefully Koller has some food packed in this bookstore of his. They’re all hungry and grumpy.

“Stay close to Paul.” Mac opens the door to his newfound avenging freedom.

***

Alex shuts the door behind her, turning she sees a young woman behind the cash register, staring at them like they’ve grown a second head. No time for looks or confusion, she has a mission to accomplish. She runs to the desk to ask where to find Koller, and there’s no time for fifty questions. She’s taken back by the sudden outburst and the lack of noticing the closed sign. Stepping back more, she places her hand under the counter behind her and silently presses the red button. An alarm goes off on the top floor of the shop.

Alex pulls out her gun and aims it at the clerk. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

She holds up her hands out of fright. “You and your man in the bathrobe came running in here as if you were looking for trouble! Didn’t you see that we’re closed? Since the last incident, Mr. Koller told me to not take any chances!”

Alex sighs and places the stun gun back in her holster, checking the name tag in the process. “Look, Lucina, I know we look like a couple of strangers that want to start a fight, but we really need to see Koller as soon as possible! Our lives depend on it. It’s not our fault you didn’t lock the door behind you!”

“And you dragged me into your mess! Now my life depends on it!” Lucina drops her hands on the table. Tapping them on the counter, waiting for Koller or Kamil, her other co-worker to use some common sense to leave receiving and call the police!

Paul wakes up and starts to cry, not liking the sounds one bit! Mac takes the baby out of Alex’s arms, grits his teeth at the fact now he has two annoying sounds to deal with. He excuses himself to step out to the car, Alex stops him. She hands him her stun gun. After all, he’s going to need protection since a bathrobe is not considered valuable armor. He ignores the look on her face as he takes it, shoving it in the back of his waist band of his pants. The safety is not on, and he really hopes he doesn’t accidentally shoot his butt when he sits down in the car.

Lucina must question Alex’s sense of judgement and starts yelling over the alarm, “Why would you leave yourself defenseless towards the person you plan to take hostage!”

Hostage? Oh, God, this woman right now is being far too restless against someone that means her no harm, considering she has no other weapon on her. She starts yelling right back, “Clearly you didn’t see the baby in the room! The way everything is sounding off for no apparent reason could’ve left severe repercussions to his hearing!”

The alarm stops. Lucina turns to see that her co-worker is coming down the stairs, giving her questioning looks to why she sounded the alarm in the first place. The walls have been padded over time and time again to where no state police on the outside could hear it! Not to mention the alarms are not wired to any satellites that are connected to the police network! All she’s been doing is making noise for a man who’s not even here right now! He stepped out to go get sandwiches from that chicken place! Kamil makes sure to tell this to his co-worker in the sternest voice he could muster. He has no time for hearing damage when books need to be unpacked!

Lucina shakes her head. Koller never bothers to tell her anything! With frustration she points at Alex and starts telling him about how her and Mac barged in, demanding her to speak to Koller! Kamil looks at her and back at Lucina. He stops her before she goes on about how they’re a rude terrible couple. Assuming that’s what she’s implying. The conversation from earlier gave away what her intentional thoughts are like.

“I know about the guy outside. He briefly explained to me about the direness of the situation he and his friend are in.” Kamil runs behind the counter to check out the level 5 safety deposit box. Pulling out a multi-tool, he uses it on the safe. The green light grants him access, and he pulls out a 25,000-credit chip from the one of many in the stack. He hands it to Alex.

Lucina is mortified. “You can’t give her that! Koller is going to fire you and me for this! You for breaking and entering the box, and me for not trying to stop you!”

“You know, there’s a reason why the boss never tells you anything or gives us the safe codes, right?” Kamil shakes his head, closes the box, and makes sure it’s locked up tight.

Alex is confused. She doesn’t understand the generosity this young man is giving him. “What’s this for?”

Kamil looks around the building, closely at the windows, making sure there are no drones spying on them. When he sees none, he waves to Mac to let him know it’s ok to come inside. Then he makes his way back to Alex, standing right next to her just to be extra safe, and blocking her view from Lucina, who is now standing there impatiently trying to get a read on the situation. Koller will have to explain to Lucina later about what’s going on in this kooky place.

“My boss told me to expect a visitor that will need help. He didn’t mention anything about a second person, but he told me this money is enough to get him out of town when the job is done and to France. Word is, there’s a rumor going on about a paper that just started that’s taking newcomers.” Kamil takes Alex’s arm to pull her upstairs to the red book poking out of the wall.

Alex doesn’t understand what Koller is thinking. She works secretly for Lebedev’s company! She can just call in a V-TOL extraction to get them out. So she thinks. Last time she tried to do this, Jensen got himself stuck in the alps, because she couldn’t radio in for a ride from _Lebedev Global_. The company’s main base is just too far away! But she doesn’t expect anyone in this building in or out to know this. She’s just using him as front for legit work to stay in Prague. Without it, she wouldn’t even be allowed into the country on orders much less the city.

Kamil pushes Alex into the elevator when she wouldn’t budge. “Stay down in the basement. I am going to grab your friend and get him some clothes.”

Kamil rushes back downstairs to see Mac and Paul admiring the children’s books with the stuffed toys attached to them. Particularly an antelope. Must be the way the horns are shaped. Smiling, he taps Mac on the shoulder and ushers him upstairs to the office where Koller gets his book work done, suggesting grabbing as many kid books as he likes. Just the one will do for now. Paull just wants the stuffed toy to hug and use as a comforter.

Mac sees an open closet behind the computer. Mostly filled with punk rocker jackets, jeans with holes in them, and many t-shirts with anarchy signs. Nothing seems to pop out till he spots the grunge looking shirts. He grabs an old _Pearl Jam_ shirt and a pair of jeans that only have one hole in them. Looks like Koller didn’t have time to cut anymore into them. Afterwards, Kamil takes him to the downstairs bathroom. It’s a complete mess. There are things in the shower that look like they’ve molded over, the mirror is broken, and the floor looks like it hasn’t been mopped in a century!

Kamil looks away. “Pardon the mess. He doesn’t really like to shower down here.”

“I can see that.” Mac turns on some warm water and washes Paul’s face a bit. The boy yawns, opening his eyes, and coos at his father’s touch, latching onto his thumb again. Mac’s eyes widen at the hurt that’s stirring at the pit of his stomach.

Kamil notes the look on his face. He coughs and changes the subject to get his attention out of the state he’s in. “I will find you a pair of shoes and socks. Please take as much time as you need. Kitchen is next door if you would like to make something for you and Alex.”

Paul starts sucking on Mac’s thumb.

Kamil couldn’t help his voice to go soft. “There’s a microwave for formula too.” He takes his leave, returning to Lucina to calm down the hectic woman. Once again, Koller needs to learn when to open his mouth more besides knowing when to close it!

Mac looks at his baby boy that won’t let him have his thumb back. “Just you and I right now, buddy.”

They make their way to the kitchen afterwards to see what the two can conjure up in the food department. Shockingly, not really, there’s only bread, peanut butter, and bottled water. Strange, for a guy who never goes shopping, that out technically shopping, he finds it very off putting. Koller strikes Mac as the type of guy who gets someone else to deliver all his meals and bath supplies, if he ever showers. So why now? What’s so important that he himself had to go outside to get what he needed?

Mac will ask later. He needs to make, hopefully not stale sandwiches, for him and Alex. He thinks about making another bottle of formula, but the boy is already asleep.

_JL pulls up next to Mac’s car. “Not very subtle to leave your car out in hiding like this, compadre.”_

_Of course, he’s not talking to anyone. Sighing, he opens the door to the shop to see a man through the store’s window leading Mac up to the hidden elevator. _

_Janus: You need to give them the certificate. _

_“I Know that. I am just wondering how they made it in this building without all the alarms going off. Last time that bitch made my left ear go deaf for nearly a week! Couldn’t even properly hear at my own board meetings!” JL smacks the left side of his head, hoping Janus could hear all that shaking through his phone. _

_Janus: I don’t have time for your games, Lebedev. You need to stop and get those files to MacReady and Alex right now. _

_“Keep your digital panties on, Janus. I know what I am doing.” JL sneaks behind one of the front bookcases. He remembers the last time he came here he asked for a book about conspiracy theories. That sets off an alarm in the entire bookstore on itself. Around these parts, nobody talks about the conspiracies that surround the world. JL really didn’t want a book about them, he just wanted his suspicion confirmed that this city is under watch. Rumors do have some truth to them, even if they’re small. _

_“You know, I am surprised this place doesn’t invest in turrets. Clearly one would have shot me up already.” JL moves to the stairs, moving his way up past Kamil, who is coming down from the other staircase. They wave to each other. _

_Janus: We’re one step closer to putting this case to rest. _

_“By making Robert “Bob” Page cry? Somehow I doubt that’s your plan.” JL pulls the red book out of the shelf. “Koller makes things too obvious.”_

_Janus: When one is angry and sees red, they’ll not see red. _

_“Philosophical. I’ll make sure to cause hemorrhage in my mechanical eye to make sure I see double the red.” JL crosses his arms and rides the elevator all the way down. _

_Janus: Let’s hope that doesn’t happen._

_“You and me both, Janus.” _

Koller makes his way through the backdoor of the place with his breakfast sandwiches from _Chicken Foot_. Humming the whole way to the elevator. Kamil ends up stopping him before he pulls the red book.

“Mr. MacReady is here, and he brought a friend with him, Mr. Koller.” Kamil steps back from the shocked looking face. “Are you ok, sir? I did what you asked. Did I miss something?”

Koller shakes his head no. “I just didn’t buy enough food for everyone! Can you make a run to grab more? Make sure to grab something for you and Lucina too!” He shoves credit chips in his hand and quickly pulls the red book, waiting for the elevator to come back up.

Kamil looks down at the massive amount of chips in his hand. He understands now why Koller never shops for himself and gives out multi-tools to people instead of just supplying the keycodes with no trust.

“Sigh, Mr. Koller, no one is going to know what to do with you when you can’t do this anymore.”

And it’s the sad truth.

***

A recap of the evidence available to the group:

-A conversation between David and Delara that only Janus has heard.

-Two photographs of Delara’s therapy session with the little girl that attacked her on the day of the aug incident. Possible scratching and bruises around the neck. Can use this against her to trigger a form of PTSD she might have. Don’t hesitate or she will use reverse psychology to gain the upper hand. Cover the interrogator’s eyes if this happens.

-A recording of Delara’s and Page’s wedding reception. According to Megan’s cryptic note this is the husband of the accused. Perfect match is what they’re all thinking. Maybe they can use this against Page if they decide to get him on the line to ask questions themselves to make her talk. Point out little things that would make Delara scoff without uneasy people are about dancing these days. Get under her skin, but don’t let her get under yours.

Bonus points: The illuminati and their worshipers are a part of this abnormality. 

Koller moves away from the table, away from the findings that MacReady has placed before him. He feels sick to his stomach that tactics like this must happen. Whatever happened to just talking over a nice cup of coffee or a glass of whiskey on the rocks? He guesses tough military men don’t get queasy like this, and just down lunch as it’s just a second breakfast compared to the evidence.

Mac shifts Paul in his arms, takes a bite out of his own chicken finger sandwich. “So, who’s the brown haired classy looking guy?”

“You think I’m classy?” JL extends his hand outwards for Mac to shake. He doesn’t get one in return due to the fullness of the other hands. “Sorry, I am Juan Lebedev. Call me JL.”

“Not a very waitering name.” Mac sits down in one of the chairs out of the way of the hanging limbs. This place is disgusting to him! Why is there dried up blood all over near what looks like to be a tortured chair? If Paul gets sick due to exposure to the bacteria all around them, he’s going to put a bullet through Koller’s head before any leftover Dvali or illuminati agents do.

Koller catches the death glare and gulps. “Want to warm up the formula bottle again?”

“No. I just want JL to explain why he’s here and what he has to do with you since you or Alex didn’t freak the fuck out when he arrived!” Mac shoves another bit of his food in his mouth, chewing loudly.

Alex speaks up first. “He’s with me, MacReady. We’re…he’s also part of the _Juggernaut Collective_.”

This doesn’t faze Mac. He’s out of the surprised delusional mindset to no longer care. Everyone here has a connection to someone or something, that the whole world might be in a giant metal illuminating palm. There’s nothing anyone can do about it in this current state of affairs. This doesn’t bring back his dead lover with what they’re doing, but he’s going to get some justice with the help of these misfits whether he likes it or not. The group isn’t too bad. They’re the cool loser posy that people would make fun of at school, but this time, they’re going to be the ones on top. The secret organization will fall one by one till they’re all broken down.

JL recognizes the look all too well. Being a prominent member himself. He has a well thorough thought towards the illuminati, being one of the rich ones himself. The pressure is always on him to find new ways around, not to get caught, and sometimes he must go very low to get very high. He’s posed as many different stereotypes of waiters, old-veteran bums, costumed clowns, and the one time he dresses up as himself to a party he attended, he gets called out by the whispers of the underground newspaper. Their misplaced media blame nearly got him ousted and killed. This is how he met Koller. Not through some high-tech fancy schmuck that’s too poor to pay for his own augmentations or a double agent. Koller knew what to do. How to make things go away. No, JL didn’t kill anyone, but the two made sure the whispering came from somewhere else deep in that underground tunnel before the move to France. Koller is truly a genius with the sound barrier, and today it’s still tuned in to anyone crazy enough to fall for false information.

Koller stands up and walks over to JL, placing a hand on his back to show trust. “This man is a real cunning genius when it comes to quick thinking and need to get away. He’s here to help with the set up. Why, he once tried to operate as my apprentice. I quickly turned him down. I’m not in the ready-mood to operate on…volunteers that need new facial tattoos.”

JL doesn’t ignore the joke and uses his own salt, “Koller’s going to cease from making anymore shitty jokes and listen to what I have tell everyone before all these hanging limbs come crashing down on his computers.” The barking works. The little man is back in his chair, poking at the crinkly fry in its container. He’s not very hungry after this.

JL continues, “Koller’s going to give me temporary augmentation make over to help cover the ground we need to bring Auzenne in.” He pauses a moment, waiting to see if anyone has any questions or concerned looks for his safety. When he gets none of the sort, to his disappointment since he did risk his life as the waiter, he continues again, “Everyone is probably wondering how, right? How can an augmentation be temporary?”

Again, no one speaks up. They’re eating their food and watching JL like a hawk, a bit annoyed that he keeps pausing to make sure everyone isn’t stupid. New facial tattoos and 3D-printed out material to look like carbon fiber has been done before. There’s nothing new to this strategic plan of his, and it may not even work as the material lacks augmentation abilities. JL narrows his eyebrows downwards. The bitterness of the skeptic crowd tonight really doesn’t deserve his or Janus’ help. Sighing, he pulls out a small device and presses a button. The thing unfolds and a white face with blue eyes and pink lips appear int its place. The machine morphed into a humanoid theater mask like face!

“Koller is going to install this triangle pattern molecular formed face on me. How does it work? Well, think of Jensen’s arm blades that form out of molecules and other components. It’s like that, but it won’t cut you to death.” JL holds the thing over his face to show. The eyes, mouth, and nose adjust to let fit his face like a natural mask made from human skin.

Koller claps his hands in glee. “All I need is a volunteer to help me dye his hair! Anyone? Vega? You look fashionably adorable! Want to do the honors of dying?”

Alex holds her hands up. “No way, man! That’s all you!”

Koller pouts. No one wants to have some fun anymore! “Fine! Go back upstairs and pick out a disguise. I need a woman’s touch for this. I’ve seen how he dresses himself, and he has no idea what fashion is.”

JL takes the mask off and glares at the offending gentleman. “At least I bathe.”

Mac stares down at Paul as the two bickers. “Please don’t turn out like them. Do your papa and I proud?”

Paul coos in agreement as he’s chewing on Moosey Moose and Anty, the Antelope’s ear. 

***

Delara wraps her jacket around tightly. Prague is having another one of its cold nights again. The people around her don’t seem to mind it. Naturals and augmented people are out enjoying their night, some dressed for the Red-Light life and the others jumping up and down with their cameras, taking pictures of all the monuments and landmarks. Look at how happy they can be when filth is elsewhere. This kind feels…unnatural. Just around the corner is a dark alley where there are augs in desperate need of _Neuropozyne_, and the people up here ignore them, pity them, and move on with their lives. Like she is doing without so much of a thought of anyone else happy being. After all, they’ll all forget about the homeless dying in a few minutes.

Delara sticks her nose up when she walks into someone’s back. She’s not paying attention to what’s in front of her as she moves around to analyze the people’s personality traits, force of habit. She doesn’t need one of these sad drunken hobos to apologize and ask her for money. Impatient as she is, she ends up in the same back when he side-steps in front of her. Annoyed, she taps the man on the shoulder, wanting to ask him why he’s playing around like this. He smells awful, and his scent is throwing her mind out in a bit of a loop with how badly this man needs a bath and a new pair of clothes.

The man turns around, his big droopy green eyes are shining through the artificial facial mask giving no hints away that it’s JL. Her natural reaction to his irresponsibility remains the same, which is good. This interaction will go smoothly, if he can keep in character. He slowly moves out of her way and apologizing. Telling her that he’s trying to find his ring that his grandfather gave him before he passed away, and he didn’t want her to accidentally step on it.

She’s not in the mood for this. She needs to get home to attend to a phone call she’s expecting from her husband to talk about that plan the Juggernaut is supposed to be looking at. Seems suspicious that no one has leaned onto someone else. Narrowing her eyes, she thinks back to the night where MacReady had seen the coroner’s broken screen.

“Miss? Are you ok?” JL studies her face, wonders what she’s thinking about. Slowly he approaches her with his hand, cleverly hiding a small needle with a small mechanical bug filled with a green gas in it. He touches her gently.

She jumps back, rubbing at her shoulder, noticing a small pinprick. “What did you do to me?” She looks around, screaming for help.

People stop what they’re doing and notice the hysterical woman. They make their way across the street to get the homeless man away from her. He runs for it, some giving chase and some staying by to make sure she’s ok. JL pulls out his phone and activates a few buttons, his eye beams up, tracking Delara on his HUD, a voice enabler on one of the sides. Delara’s coordinates are set and match and so is the listening device. Tonight will be the night to catch her, but Janus wants his plan to go into effect first. He didn’t even bother to tell JL to inform the others. 

_Janus: Everything is showing clear on my screen. The device in her is nestled in a spot where you can activate the knock-out gas afterwards. The hole on her shoulder will not clot till the gas is activated. _

JL hides in one of the back alleys, disabling the mask. “Jesus, Janus, this is a lot of trouble just for some dirt.”

_Janus: Page is not one to underestimate. Do you still have the birth certificate?_

“Yes. It’s still in my pocket. I’m planning to give it back to MacReady later.” JL pulls out a vanilla folder that holds the precious document.

_Janus: No. I am sending a drone to you. Too much exposure and risk we must take into consideration. _

“Do you really think it’s wise to do this? What if Mac opens the safe and finds it’s not there?” JL rubs the back of his head. He’s not feeling comfortable with this idea.

_Janus: As far as Duncan MacReady is concerned, nothing has been taken and he’s unaware of the break in. I like to keep it that way. _

“You’re heartless, Janus.” JL looks up to see the drone coming down for its pickup.

_Janus: I am not here to make friends, Lebedev. I am here to save lives. _

The call is cut, and the drone leaves as fast as it came. 

***

Delara opens the door to her apartment, rushing to her bathroom to check out the punctured hole on her shoulder. The wound has healed in an unnaturally alarming rate. No signs of any tampering or trauma. Not even the stinging pain settled on her presence. This is unsettling. She is sure something has penetrated her skin. She knows it. She splashes some water on her face. First, she needs to calm down. Secondly, she needs to address the problem at hand before jumping to anymore conclusions. Slowly she looks up at her reflection, taking a few deep breaths, and regains control of her breathing. There’s no room for panic if she gets to a point where she has to call her husband for help, she will, but for now, she doesn’t want to do that as her first resort if she really finds out she’s been bugged with something inconspicuous.

The second step of this progress is to remove every piece of clothing the slimy perpetrator has touched. This is hard for her. Her hand would start to shake when she even goes to remove her cardigan from her slender shoulders. Closing her eyes, she wills her hands to move the piece of clothing over her head. She does the same treatment to her top undergarment, letting it drop to the floor next to her feet. She doesn’t feel any less dirty. Rubbing her shoulder, she opens her eyes to take a look at where a hole should’ve been. Still nothing there. Her pale skin still looks untouched from the outside. She touches it again, giving it a tight squeeze, hoping to feel something hard. Nothing. Once again there’s nothing. Just the feeling of soft tissue and only causing her skin to get red with her constant probing. She lets out a sigh of relief. Finally convincing herself that the man that touched her probably had some dirt on his hands, and she worked herself up into a psychological in the brain mess.

_I should know better. I have the top degrees in Psychology, and I let myself freak out over someone touching me, thinking they were going to hurt me. I need to stop staying at the office so late. Doing so is not helping me or the soldiers I am supposed to be preparing for the field. They or Director Miller seem me like this, they will find no confidence in themselves, I’ll be responsible for their deaths, and then there will be no-I need to stop thinking like this. I am on a mission for someone far more important than myself, and with the initial target deceased…_

Bob Page’s voice speaks up from the TV behind her, “Delara? Are you there? You didn’t return my phone call. You know you have to call at a precise time during this delegate situation. We can’t afford any mess-ups. We-well, the upper attire being loosely disregarded goes without saying. It’s appealing for this call if you miss me that much, but if you keep rubbing your shoulder like that, my dear, you’ll leave a permanent red mark.”

Delara emerges from the bathroom, pulling the rest of her clothes off, in hopes to get into a shower and scrub herself clean after the call. The pinhole might be gone, but the stained feeling on her brain from the touch didn’t leave her. Not yet. “Don’t give your hopes up. I am about to grab a nice glass of fine wine and go soak myself in the bathtub.”

“Should I be worried? You’re teasing me this early in my own time zone.” Damn, San Francisco time can be cruel when one’s wife is on the other side of the world. He won’t be in Prague for another few days. He had to return back to California after the mission became compromised to work out a proper alibi. Calling in a last minute “favor” to Manderley to demand some update he could use to make sure Janus didn’t know what he really wanted the man to do it. It worked. Janus didn’t know he came to Prague, and no one brought up his presence within the little group of misfits. A hard lesson Janus will learn in due time when his literal name comes into play when playing the face of two sides. For now? Page will enjoy his wife’s leisurely pleasure.

Delara laughs. She grabs her drink and settles herself down on the couch. Lying smugly right down on her stomach, hand on her face, and wine to the tip of her mouth. Feet are kicked up in the air, toes wiggling, and showing off that new silver toe ring Page bought for her. Page couldn’t help but shake his head as the woman is showing off her wealth and beautiful curves. He even demands her to put some clothes on or go get in the bath. He doesn’t have time to play these phone call games when he needs to get ready for a meeting in a couple of hours and his lack of sleep over everything doesn’t remedy all the situations that are happening at once.

Delara sees the stressed-out eyes. “I haven’t seen you look like this since our wedding night. It’s not like you’re a people pleaser.”

“People pleaser only by a forced reputation and smile, my dear.” He leans back in his chair, holding an unlit cigarette in between his fingertips. He’s thinking about the position Delara is covering herself in. Squinting, he looks down at his watch. Oh, why not? A little wine talk between lovers wouldn’t hurt anyone. Page gets up from his chair to grab himself a glass.

_Lebedev wants to gag! “Janus, I swear to God, I am going to kill you. I didn’t sign-up to listen to them talk about their sex lives and how much they miss each other for being so far apart. In fact, I didn’t even know Page is capable of such talk!”_

_Janus: Patience is a virtue that you should know is much older than you. _

_“You too, buddy.” Lebedev rubs his tired eyes. “We don’t have time for this. They’re not going to talk about anything related to Adam or the mission we want to use on hand. She has to be knocked out when they get off the phone. If we stall any longer after this, then who knows when the next chance we’ll get to take her down! She’s completely vulnerable in this state!”_

_Janus: Are you willing to carry her wrapped up in a blanket all the way back to Koller’s? People will stop you before you make it ten feet out the door. _

_“Then find me a route I can take!” JL closes the connection between the two before Janus could get another word in. For a smart guy, he’s very insufferable and has to question everything that is already in the process of being handled!_

Things take longer than expected. The two wouldn’t stop talking about the latest nanotech advances that would help with Page’s projects, and Delara wouldn’t shut up about the latest psychological studies on the incident. JL is sure the two are in complete glee when things came down to talking about value of human lives that neither really cared about. The whole thing makes him sick. He tries to ignore them with a bit of a cat nap, but Janus’ constant ringing in his ear to stay awake prevented him from doing that. JL hopes that his boss really is actually looking for a way out for him.

Eventually Page does bid her a goodnight and she’s off the vid-call. Finally! JL wastes no time in using the gas. She’s out cold within a few seconds. Quickly rushing in, he grabs one of the blankets off the couch, and throws it over her, wrapping her up like a burrito. He picks her up, throws her over his shoulder, and goes for the front door of the apartment building. Janus stops him before he does so. “Janus, I need to leave before Page decides he wants to continue on his rant about taking lives for the greater good of his selfishness.”

_Janus: There are people in black and white suits right outside this door. _

“How?” JL moves away from the front door of the apartment. Damnit, for being on such a high floor! He rushes as fast as he can back up the stairs, slamming her apartment shut. He needs to get out of here. Going to the window he opens it up, looks down to see the people are entering the building. How’s he supposed to get out of here now? He’s not sure if he can hop from balcony to balcony with this human on his back.

_Janus: Tip Offs came sooner than we thought. I thought we had more time than this. I almost had the route setup finished! _

“You underestimated the situation! I want to yell at you and say this is unlike you, but I think I already did in this not so yelling voice. What do we do now? I can’t parkour an unconscious body!” JL carefully steps onto the next balcony, ducking when one of the guys comes back out, saying Delara isn’t there. Now they really have no time left.

_Janus: I am jamming their coms to prevent them from contacting anyone, including Page. I am finding you a place to set her down. _

JL looks up when he sees a drone flying a few feet from him. “Make it quick! There’s a drone on its way!”

_Janus: I re-routed the drone to force it to identify the men that are trying to kill you. Get behind the billboard. _

Janus forces a ladder to extend in front of JL. He’s grateful for it and quickly climbs up it after placing Delara’s body next to the steps. He ties a bit of the rope he used on the ladder. The extension up works, and the body is securely behind cover. Now what? Stay here till morning? She’s due to wake up by then, and JL doubts Janus has that much patience to wait much less than him. He’s about to speak his mind when he hears the gunfire. The drone is attacking the men.

_Janus: They opened fired on the drone. I didn’t retaliate back. The automated fire decided to do that on its own._

Convenient that Janus didn’t disable that part, but this gives JL a good leeway to get out of here. If he could get down somewhere without the Prague state police coming to investigate the noise! Another backfire. Sighing, JL uses his mask to disguise himself as a Prague police officer. He can match the face with a semi-decent helmet, but the clothes are going to need some serious improvising if he’s stopped. Climbing down slowly with the body on the ladder, he takes the opportunity to slip passed the police. Except for one. That one decides to stop him and asks where he’s going with this woman. Time to improvise. Lucky he’s caught up on Czech.

“The 24/7 Medical Clinic for naturals. She fell.” JL points to where her apartment is. He sees that the officer is still looking at him with curiosity. Mostly his outfit. They go to question him again, but more gunfire is going off. Another drone is going rogue and decided to make due to the newly black suits that have arrived on the scene. Thank God. JL almost had to go on a hysterical spree of being chicken shit of the gunfire due to being a rookie, and that’s why he hid there. He takes off before someone else questions him.

_Janus: I don’t want to spread bloodshed any longer, Lebedev. Hurry up. _

He does manage to get back to Koller’s place in one piece. What awaits him, surprises him. He removed the augmented mask from his face with a painful detachment from Koller’s screwdriver. He hisses at the man, threatening him to pull every punch he could for applying it so tightly to his cheekbones. For now he holds that back and looks around. Koller’s place is completely hologram over. Everything looks like a green screen of a white medical laboratory with only real thing in the middle is that bloody chair. JL places Delara’s unconscious body on it.

JL steps back and turns to the group. Alex and Paul are the only two not present. For the best, but there’s the other people they have to deal with that will most likely come here.

“Guys, we’re not going to have much time. People are going to come here and if they find this secret lair, we’re all screwed.” JL steps back, going for the elevator door. “I’ve done my job here. I will do my best on the outside to make sure nobody comes in. I’ll do my best to lead them away to more drones or something.”

JL takes the mask back out of Koller’s hands and attaches it to his face, disguising himself as one of the men with the shades. “Anyone have a suit and shaving kit for my hair I can borrow? I am really going to need to look like Hitman here.”

Koller rolls his eyes. “You want your _Rolex_ back and champagne layered cake to eat too?”

***

_The guinea pig’s Laughter. “Is that so, Miss…Mrs.…?” _

_“Please, David, Delara is just fine.” She purposely avoids the formality._

_“Aw! Ok, Delara. Please excuse me. I try to treat everyone fairly by using their proper titles.” Sarif rubs the back of his head, extending his hand outward for Delara to shake. _

_“I prefer a friendlier approach.” Delara places her hands behind her back to avoid shaking Sarif’s hand. The two continue to walk up towards a hill, out of everyone’s sight and earshot. _

_Double standard on the word friendly here. Sarif pretends he doesn’t notice as he looks up at the sky. “It’s going to rain.”_

_“The sky always raining on days like these. It’s part of the breathing in and out exercise. Just imagine we’re on a beach- “ What is she saying? Why is she speaking like this? _

_Sounds like…her training exercise._

Delara wakes up in a cold sweat. She can hear it. The sounds of an ocean playing off in the distance with soft classical music playing from a loudspeaker in the room. Every now and then she thinks she hears a bit of the conversation she had with Sarif at Adam’s funeral. Looking around she sees the familiarity of a medical lab. She goes to get up, noticing the blanket falling off of her body. She looks down to see that she’s naked. That’s right. The bastard that spirited her away didn’t bother to redress her. He could’ve had some decency to grab her a robe and her underwear out of her dresser. Mortified, she covers herself back up, continuing to ignore the conversation that’s conveniently grown louder over the music.

_Sarif opens his umbrella. “It’s far from a parasol, but it’ll keep the sun from burning the top of your pretty little head.”_

_“I am flattered, David, but your charm will have no affect on me.” She still keeps her hands behind her back. She doesn’t want to rise to his bait. _

_“I am merely being a good Samaritan. Nothing more.” Sarif smiles. The way he says it…doesn’t feel real over this recording. Wait…_

This is merely a constructed transcript, is it not? The way they’re talking…there’s nothing formal about this. Sarif’s voice sounds different, her voice sounds different. They sound…almost like a voiceover of musical tones of some sort. Mimics. Copies. Confusion. High pitch voices of certain sentences. Low pitches of cockiness from her? Him? Delara places her hand around her neckline. She feels vulnerable here and under the blanket. The recording keeps playing.

_This doesn’t feel right. Sarif’s voice hums into her ears. “Do you always act like this?”_

_She can hear his smile. It’s almost a sing-along with the way the laughter dribbles at the end. _

_“Act like what?” The question catches her off guard, but that pitch…Delara…the real one lying with the blanket wrapped tightly around her body senses that this is…something’s not right. She’s never acted this deadpanned. It’s planned, surely…right?_

_Sarif watches Delara place her shaking hands into her pockets. “You sound emotionally dead inside.” _

_His smile grows bigger. He sways his head from side to side to get a good look at the face that appears before him. He reaches out to touch her. She can feel the thumb rubbing across her skin. Inside of her head and ears. The drums are banging with a tingling sensation of fear. Faint laughter plays through the room. No, a chuckle on repeat that makes the tone wave through the area like an ocean wave. Sarif asks the same questions in a different format. Delara can picture the many faces he’s making. _

_Sarif’s face changes to a twisted dark look with a smirk to compensate the air. “Do you enjoy your life knowing you’ve caused the deaths of so many people?” _

_His voice is deep and hollow. _

_The look of despair and worry followed suit. “Are you going to take my life? What would my son think of you when he sees you rotting down in the void of nothingness with only a bed, toilet, and a little hole for food and water, as we watch you wallow in your pitiful damnation.”_

_A man of science shows a little compassion. _

_“I am not purely all evil here. I just want you to understand what you’re doing is wrong. We might even let you go.” Sarif taps his forehead with a baseball. _

_The sound of something being thrown up and down in the air blocks out the bad sensation of pain. She wants to scream. This isn’t the talk she remembers with Sarif. _

_“A windowless prison. A door that shines a little light. Just enough for you to see it for a few seconds three times a day. Would you go insane from that?” A high-dry laugh. _

_She doesn’t want to hear this anymore. Make the conversation stop._

_“Maybe we’ll let Page talk to you once.” Sarif stops, cooing at the idea of Robert “Bob” Page coming to “him” to make some sort of deal to speak to his wife. _

_Page wouldn’t bother to lift a finger for her…. why did she just think this? _

_“Would he have second thoughts on wanting to see you?” Sarif shuffles through a drawer, pulling out some photographs. “These wedding photos are very beautiful!”_

_He’s rubbing his grubby little fingers along them, but…wait, what photos? A background video of noise can be heard through the speakers in the room. She can hear Page’s, the music from the reception, and some muffling talk in the background. _

_“Oh, I am so sorry! I am referring to the therapy session from that day, but that’s for another conversation. I am listening to the classical wedding music behind you.” He amps up the background noise, purposely posing it to one side of the room and the other?_

_The other sounds like chatter from other people. Certain people. _

_Sarif stops walking around in Delara’s head. He sets the baseball down on the mental table. He’s playing with the ball, rolling it around with his fingertip. “I amped up the left room speaker. You shouldn’t be shocked to know we know what your acquaintances are conjuring up.”_

_She can hear them…one male, an older gentleman that sounds dehydrated, and the other…? An older woman…elderly. They’re talking about a plan. No…_

_Sarif speaks in a sing-song voice now. “Well! Well! You do know who they are! Shall we do a raid?”_

“I’ve had enough of this!” The recording stops.

A new voice enters the room. The door behind her slams open, causing one of the speakers hiding behind the green screen to crack under the force and tear at the material, revealing part of a sink with a box of scraps lying on top of the counter. She turns to see that the one and only Duncan MacReady has entered. Stupid. Now she really knows who to identify to the police when she has him arrested and thrown into a bottomless pit of an illuminati jail cell! Not to mention the stench coming from the sink. Blood? Piss? Alcohol? She squints at the drops of water coming out of faucet. No, just dirty water. She hopes she won’t be forced to drink such poison!

Mac grabs the clothes off the table next to her and throws them on her. “Get dressed, bitch. We have a lot to talk about.” He leaves the room afterwards, slamming the door again behind him, causing the drops to splash onto another speaker, causing a fuzz of static to pour out. The recording that once stopped let’s out a faint laugh then grows eerily silent. Whoever is controlling this version of Sarif’s wavelength of musical voices and smiles is still trying to mess with her.

“With pleasure.” Delara smiles on the inside and gets dressed. This is going to be interesting when Mac comes back through the door.

She pushes her thoughts to the side and dresses for now. Taking her sweet time, needing to think about what she’s going to say or what he’s going to demand for her to say. Unknown to her on the other side that Mac is leaning against the door with a tray containing fresh bread and ice water, thinking the same exact thing.

Let the mind games begin.

***

“I have something for you.” Mac sets the tray down roughly, causing the contents to topple over. That’s ok, the witch isn’t that hungry anyways.

Delara fixes her hair that’s slowly moving over her shoulders. Disappointed she doesn’t have the proper essentials to get these knots out. “You didn’t bring me my hair clip.”

Mac hisses out, “It wouldn’t make you less ugly.”

Koller slaps his forehead and rings into Mac’s ear with his own I-Link, “MacReady! Don’t forget why you’re in there. We need her to be calm and-“

Delara taps her chin, twirling a strand around her fingers. Something no one’s seen her do when outside of the office. She always has her legs crossed, dressed in a professional manner, and have a clipboard in her hand. Here? She’s forced to wear whatever her captors can give to her and play into a situation she barely knows anything about. She touches her shoulder to feel that the stinging sensation is no longer there. How long has it been gone? When did she notice the bump? She looks up to see that MacReady looks occupied with his left ear. Constantly fiddling with it. What is he doing? She doesn’t see anything there. Probably a PTSD twitch he has from his desert days that she failed to make a recording of. Not that there will be anymore recording of this…creature when she gets out of here.

Mac slaps his ear to get Koller to shut up! If he doesn’t then the captor in front of him will start trying to use something against him when there’s just smoke in the air. He doesn’t have any I-link’s in his brain! Koller should really think ahead with these things! Or…Mac looks up to see Delara is giving him dirty looks. Hm, he can use this. He pinches his bottom lobe, feeling the already harden area. Wincing, he lets go of it. No use in trying to place a strategy in front of himself when the tyrant in front of him is starting to catch on to something. With his luck, maybe the too small to detect earpiece. Maybe…Mac looks down at the photographs in his hands. Ah, right, he nearly forgotten about these.

_Photograph 1 – Week 1 – Delara and the little girl are taking a selfie together with an old school camera. Hard to come by these days. Disposable polaroid? This will run someone up in credits around Christmas time. _

Mac fidgets with the item. “How kind of you.”

Delara looks up at him with her arms crossed. “I beg your pardon?”

_Long brown hair with sloppily made curls at the end. A pink hairbrush lies on top of a shelf behind her. Hair looks recently brushed. The end of the brush might’ve been used to twist the end hairs around to get it in the shape it’s in. _

Mac paces around Delara, curling up the photograph as if it’s a newspaper. He uses it to hit the inside of his palm with one of the tips, putting dents into something that no longer supports any longing of innocent meaning. The approach is different now. He stops behind her, using his free hand to grab at the hair clip, pulling it from her hair and throwing it across the room. Delara’s hair drops down over her shoulders. He examines the ends with his curious eyes only. There are some messy curls there as well, a few starting to come undone. He didn’t see them earlier when they brought her in. This has meaning to him...to her. He just has to figure out how to use this as a weapon against her.

Delara covers her shoulder with her hair. “I have no intention of letting you touch my hair, Duncan. Please refrain from placing your hands anywhere near my head again.”

“You’re in no position to make any demands.” Mac unfolds the material again, closer examining any habits that might leak out. The background is a nice shade of blue with purple butterflies and blue roses popping out from the sides of the bookcase. He studies the top of the picture to see where they’re flying off too. Nothing he can make out too clearly, but it seems to be some kind of splash of paint. Abstract art? Did she let her patients color on the walls? No, they would need a step ladder to climb, and that’s not even tall enough for small children to reach; but she could’ve lifted them up to the spot.

“I am held captive by you and the other people outside of this door. When people find out I am not where I am supposed to be, they’ll come looking. You want to know how they will know to come here?” Delara sits up and throws her legs off the side of the hospital bed.

Mac shrugs. “They’ll know where to go, but they won’t know how to get to here.”

_They look like they’re about to come to life. The laughter can be heard, drowning out the screaming. Dancing wings in the background looking for a way out, trapped behind an internal picture for all eternity. How cruel can two smiles be? The evil one doesn’t even realize she’s the one who’s trapped. The other is enjoying the release of being next to her favorite psychiatrist. The one that understands her, would never hurt her. Always there to help her and make her feel comfortable. Only if she knew that this is her job. She doesn’t really care for her patients. _

“I’m sorry? What did you say? I don’t care for my ‘patients’?” Delara places her hands down on the bed, leaning back a bit.

Mac makes his arms flap forward and backwards, almost mimicking one of the butterflies flying its way to freedom. “Butterflies seek a flower of their destination to fill themselves with nutrition for the day.” He claps his hands backwards and forwards, each clap becoming louder than the last one. The final one reaches Delara’s ears…playing pattycake.

_Baker’s Make. Not a lot of people here with pink. This girl…pink shirt with a little unicorn sequined on. The innocence doesn’t fade. Braces at an early age doesn’t deteriorate the smile. Mac studies what he can use here. _

Delara closes her eyes. “You’ll not get to me, Duncan.”

_In fairness, he’s really not trying too. Mac smirks and places his hands directly on Delara’s shoulders. She flinches and instantly touches the area on top of his knuckles where he presses down on her sore spot. He leans forward, hands moving towards her neck…directly around her neck. He wants to suffocate the air out of her lungs, make her feel what his deceased lover felt. Just a simple tight…squeeze…_

Delara’s heart is racing. Her hands are moving in frantic motion across Mac’s. He hasn’t even done anything to her yet, but the fear of being choked to death is starting to settle into her mind. Dance! Dance! Dance! Mac’s fingertips are drumming against the pulse. This is how he’s going to break her. This is how he’s going to get his revenge. He blows into her ear, letting out a taunting smirk of laughter. She’s clawing at his rough and callous hands. He ignores the pain of her fingernails digging into his skin.

_The laughter comes into play. Delara can hear her patient in the background. Bouncing around with butterfly wings strapped to her back while wearing that ridiculous pink shirt with capris. Her white sandals clicking against the hardwood floors. She really needs to invest in some rugs, and not the type that skid across the floor when a little kid decides they want to ice skate across. Swallowing, she stands up and offers the girl something sweet to eat to get her to sit still. She refuses._

Mac applies pressure with his thumb.

With his pointer finger.

With his middle finger.

“Stop!” Delara grabs at Mac’s hands again, wanting to break each finger off. His touch is repulsive. This makes her gag.

_Weeks go on by. The same scenes play over in her head. A happy-annoying little girl moving around without a care in the world. Smiling, Delara pulls something out of the toy chest, the pink hairbrush. She wants to brush her hair. The girl cheers and sits down in front of her, pulling the scrunchie out of her hair, letting it fall down her back. Perfect. This will keep her sitting still while Delara talks to her patient. _

_They do end up talking. _

_An object is thrown. The brush is snatched out of Delara’s hands, and it hits her in the face. Startled, she falls back on the floor, clutching the spot on her head where she has been hit. She didn’t even notice the look the girl is giving her. Small hands are outstretched, grabbing at her neck, toppling on top of her like a wild animal. _

_Ring finger digging into her skin._

_Pinky nail scraping at the side. _

_Mac’s hands don’t let up._

_They don’t let up. Faces are mixed, vision is becoming blurry. She needs to get to her gun behind her desk. Looking to the side, she grabs the closest object, ironically the brush, and slams it against their head. They let go, female voice dominant with the screams. Delara scrambles past them and makes it to her desk. She fiddles with the handle of the drawer, poking her head out every second to see a crazed look and bobbing head. They’re crying. She’s crying, and the manly scar on the side of her face is throbbing where she had hit them. _

_She calls out, “Help me! Delara! Please help me!”_

_The gun is shaking in her hands. _

_She’s crying. _

_Who’s crying? Who’s calling for help?_

_The voices are growing closer. Vision is blurring between the two. Images are muddling together with two different people. What should Delara do?_

_“Please! I don’t want to die!” Calling out to her. _

_But between the three…who is the one doing the calling?_

Mac moves away from Delara, placing his pointer finger at the back of her head. “Bang.”

Delara clutches her ears, she’s screaming. The door to the room opens, and in comes Koller with a couple of men Mac didn’t recognize. They weren’t the ones from outside the bookstore that he knows of. Looks like Lebedev did his job after all keeping the crooks off their backs. They go over to her, shining a flashlight on her face. They’re asking her questions right off the bat about the illuminati while mocking her wedding reception with Bob Page. They’re telling her that no one’s going to come for her. He’ll not come for her. That’s when the men screwed up.

Delara stopped having her panic attack. Her glare turned into hard ice. “That’s your little plan? Break me down to the point where you think I’ll talk about how evil I am for killing a husband?” She laughs. “Break me down to my knees and lock me away in a padded cell. I will not speak to you tyrants any further.”

Mac laughs. “Please, bitch. On the contrary, I just wanted to get a kick watching you squirm under your own delusional self-suffocation. My fingers never even touched your neck.” He pulls up a playback from a monitor on his phone.

He’s not touching her. Everything is just in her head. “As you can see, I am doing nothing but standing behind you watching you break.”

Delara wants to throw the camera across the room. She knew what she felt! Those bloodstained hands of his lie! She can see it, smell it, and still hear the cries of everything screaming around her. Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head, and calmly regains control of herself. No, this is what they want. They want her to mentally break down in front of them, so they can kick her, and toss away that invisible key. The video is fake, edited at the last minute to confuse her. Straightening herself up she glares passed MacReady and the two guards to see Koller standing guard at the door. He’s smiling. What’s so damn pleased in this room that has him back to his non-stressful self?

Koller walks up to Mac and places his hands on his shoulders, pushing him out of the room. “Hey, Mac-Man, mind if I take a crack at her? I have these interesting wires that can hook up to any parts of the brain to make them say things they wouldn’t normally say before! Oh, please let me try this theory out! I’ll keep her alive! I promise!”

_Static emerges on Mac’s phone._

_Janus: That will not be necessary, Mr. Koller. Please look for your own experimentation elsewhere as I do believe you have a commotion outside of your store that needs addressing. My men will be departing with the prisoner soon, and I appreciate it if you don’t try to interfere with out proceedings of excavation. Signing off. _

Koller holds his hands up in surrender. “Sheesh! What a party pooper!”

_Another flicker on Mac’s screen._

Koller sighs. “Janus! We get it! You can stop hacking past my well-placed traps!”

Mac’s face turns a deadly shade of white when he sees who’s on the screen.

***

It’s Megan. Out of all people to be contacting Mac is this girl! He grits his teeth, not really in the mood to hear what she has to say. Nothing personal or out of spite, but he’s dealing with enough people today. He doesn’t need to add anyone else to the list of his headaches. He goes to close the screen, but she starts yelling at him to not cut off their communication. There’s something important she needs to talk to him about. Mac watches the intense expression expand throughout her face. She’s moving around her laboratory pretty quickly, looking around her to make sure she’s not being followed or watched behind the camera’s looming around. What’s going on here? Is this like the diner?

“Sorry, MacReady. I will need to run in a second. This might be my last chance to contact you!” Megan is risking her life for something very important if she’s taking the emergency stairwell.

Mac quickly gets the elevator moving before they lose signal. The jitters in his legs won’t stop making him bounce up and down. Once up to the main area of the bookstore he quickly goes to the back where Alex and Paul are. He holds his finger to his mouth to let the confused woman know to be quiet. She nods in silence and continues playing with Paul, moving the stuffed animals around in front of his face as if she’s putting on a puppet show. Paul claps in delight.

_Megan stops at the exit of the stairwell. She peeks outside the door to make sure no one is coming after her. This is the back-alley entrance, and heavily guarded one to prevent people from escaping with certain deadly chemical weapons…prototype weapons based from someone’s DNA that’s been perfected. Weirdly, there’s no one here. Not one single guard with an armed machine pistol or combat rifle. Something’s not right. She has Mac on her phone, perfect signal, and there’s no trace showing that she’s being tracked. Sweat is dripping on the back of her neck. Do they know she’s planning to escape with vile information that will most likely kill over half of the United States? She couldn’t prove any of it. Page has suspicions about her secret blank pages. This prevented her from making any breach of physical data. They’ll…have to believe her. _

_Dammit_ _ all…Megan leans against the back wall. It’s dirty and stinks of mold. Shivering, she pushes herself off and keeps whispering she needs to keep moving, get out of reach before someone shows up. She knows Mac is growing impatient with the way he’s ruffing about. She tells him to be patient, she needs to get to a safety net. The net that’s not going to be there when she reaches the streets of San Francisco. Everyone within ten city blocks is crooked here. The sun is beaming brightly above her. She could’ve easily escaped with Malik’s VTOL, but that be another person in danger. She didn’t want to put anyone else in danger with her recklessness. Her ex-friends and acquaintances didn’t deserve any of this treatment. _

_Things need to look up for everyone else. She needs to stop staring at the bight sky as she’s walking, because trouble is coming around the corner. The footsteps are growing louder, and things around her are starting to blur. Tears are forming at the corners of her eyes. How convenient that the place she escaped from is empty. How convenient the streets are empty except for a few homeless people slumped over in the corners with flies draping over them. Drool is coming out of their mouths, and their eyes are dilated. Their bodies appearing stiff and long deceased. How long has she been inside this building? She falls to her knees, phone with Mac’s face on it dropping to the ground. Mac is screaming at her, asking what’s wrong. She can’t speak. Things are feeling…heavy. _

_A pair of feet appear before her. Black shoes comfortably sporting a pair of dark blue pant legs. Squinting, she looks up to see that Bob Page is staring down at her with a twisted sense of pride. He huffs and leans down to her level, wagging a finger in front of her face. He picks up the phone. Megan weakly reaches out for his arm, grasping onto his cuff. She goes to speak. _

_“MacReady! Get everyone out of the building now! Delara is-“ She starts to choke. Unable to speak anymore. Oh God! Something’s poking a million miles an hour into her brain. Tiny buzzing sounds are swirling around her vision. She can’t see…she can’t breathe. She can’t comprehend anything. Everything’s turning gray inside the darkness. Everything…Everything. _

Page pulls his arm free. “You’ve outlived your use.”

Mac slams his hand on the wall. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he quickly grabs Paul out of Alex’s hands. “We need to leave. NOW!”

Alex doesn’t question why. She can hear Page’s voice on the phone in the background laughing. Mac had dropped the phone mid-grab. They’re calling for everyone to move! Kamil is weary about going outside! There are still bad guys out there! Mac doesn’t care! If JL did his job, then they can easily run through the streets to get to somewhere safe. Kamil nods and hurries to an emergency button under the cash register. He presses down on it for Koller and the other agents to hear. Koller instantly covers his ears and starts complaining again about how his security sucks around here! That alarm is supposed to be disabled! Damnit! He quickly follows the two agents out of the room. One has a shaking Delara over her shoulder.

Delara vomits over the back of the guys suit. She starts screaming and yelling at him to put her down. He ignores her and the wet sickly smell radiating off his back. She takes her fists and weakly beats on him. He stops moving when he feel something burn and crawl into his skin. He drops Delara to the ground and starts moving around, hands pulling off his suit jacket and shirt. There’s a red blotch. The Hell is in that vomit? Green acid!? Koller holds the elevator door open for the two agents.

“Come on! Come on! We don’t have much time for this…whatever this emergency is! God forbid that this whole situation isn’t already an emergency that-hm? Hey! Are you ok!?” Koller looks down to see the man scratching at his head. “Oh my God! What is happening?!”

Delara stands up, clutching her stomach. “You’re going to die down here with me!” She throws up again, barely missing his shoe.

Koller quickly closes the elevator door before she could throw something at him. The other agent stays behind to help his friend. He pulls out his gun and aims it at her. Telling her not to take another step. Delara holds her hands up. Looking down he notices that his friend is no longer moving. He places two fingers on the side of his neck to check for a pulse. There isn’t one. Glaring, he takes out his phone to contact Janus to let them know about the situation.

_Janus: Lebedev, what’s going on? Why is there an enemy with you?_

_JL stands up, both hands are on the trigger aiming at Delara’s head. “I’m hoping you tell me, boss. This guy dropped over dead just now, and I am doing my best to not get whatever the Hell is in his system in my nose!” He has a piece of cloth wrapped around his nose, thankful for the gloves he’s wearing._

_Janus: I hear Auzenne in the background. _

_JL moves passed the body and away from her even farther. “Yeah, whatever is in her is secreting itself through her mouth and all over the floor. She keeps repeating that we’re all going to die, everyone in Prague is going to die, and that Page is a ‘stupid lying son-of-a-bitch of a husband!’ Janus! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”_

***

“Aw, man! I left my favorite jacket down in the dungeon! That one had my Prince patches on it!” Koller throws his arms up in the air in exasperation. Collector’s items down the drain!

Alex wants to smack in the back of the head. “Koller! Will you shut up! I am trying to drive!”

Paul starts crying. He doesn’t like the screaming.

“Good job! You made the baby cry!” Koller moves his hands to Paul’s head. “There, there. Everything will be ok, little man!”

Mac glares at Koller. “You touch him again I will make sure to break all your augmentations off and only your head and torso will remain for the Dvali.”

Koller backs off. His two co-workers cramped up in the backseat are giving him dirt looks. Alex shakes her head. She still can’t believe she’s with these idiots! She keeps driving to God knows where around Prague. Speaking of Prague and idiots….things are looking too quiet around the streets. Koller looks out the window to see Page’s men have fallen over dead in the streets. Either JL did a good job with his one-man army, or the fact that….something’s not right. A random stranger is screaming off in the distance, saying there’s a lot of pain going on through their head. The group chooses to ignore this as Alex drops her foot on the gas pedal.

_The car dashes camera lights up. It’s Janus’ disfigured body again with a split screen. Lebedev’s face is on it, and he’s currently removing the mask that Koller made. Mac starts yelling at them over Paul’s screams to explain to them what the Hell is going on, and no one is allowed to die mid-sentence this time; or he’ll go to Hell to drag their bodies out himself just to get that an explanation! _

_Janus: No need for that, Mr. MacReady. I am sending a VTOL to your location to have someone pick you up. Prague is currently a death trap for everyone. _

_Lebedev: Yeah, yeah, and we have no idea what caused the agents to drop dead. Your little girlfriend didn’t make it. I am currently making my way through the sewers, and no, I will not be meeting up with anyone. I am going straight to our version of quarantine and find a way to fix this mess. _

_Janus: This will be our final good-bye._

_Lebedev: Shove it. I am tired and done dealing with this mess. I swear if I die by some stupid agent later in life, I am coming to haunt your ghost, Janus! Then I will know what your bloody face will look like! _

_Lebedev ended his side of the call. _

Mac rubs his head. He has no idea what’s going on or what’s even in store for them in the future. He looks outside of his window while rocking Paul back to sleep with his two stuffed toys in his hands. People are outside chatting away on their phones, completely unaware of what’s going on around them, or what’s about to happen. Hell, they don’t even know what’s going to happen! Sighing, he leans his head back and closes his eyes. He wants to sleep. He doesn’t even hear Janus anymore as he goes on and on about maybe it’s a chemical in the bodies of Page’s minions to Vega. The two employees in the back have down casted and confused looks. Phones are in their hands, and don’t know how to explain to their family that they’ll be gone for a while. Koller’s leg is shaking with nervousness.

***

“We’re here.” Alex pulls up in front of an abandoned airport. Way outside the city limits of Prague. In the middle of a forest with no clear sign of any civilization. Nice place a campout if no one’s bugged the underside of their car that is. Mac shakes his head at the random thought. Quickly he leaves the car with his baby.

Alex pulls up Janus on her phone. “Alright, Janus, we’re in position, but I don’t see our ride anywhere.”

_Janus: Your transportation will-_

_Static…_

Alex hits her phone. “Janus?” She smacks it again. His signal is breaking in and out.

_Janus: ETA…1….12…_

“Janus! You’re breaking up!” Alex starts to panic. She throws her phone on the ground when the line goes dead. Koller makes an off handed comment that she shouldn’t waste valuable equipment with these temper tantrums of hers. She has the right nerve to smack him in the head. She does.

“Ow! Watch the hair, beautiful! I need to keep it nice and pretty for you without causing my circuitry to roll around in my head!” Koller brushes it with his hand in a lame attempt to humor her. It doesn’t work, and she goes to smack him again. Kamil catches her hand and tells her now is not the time. They have bigger issues to worry about rather than their bosses idiotic bad-timing flirting. Vega wants to comment back on that she sees this as harassment over flirting, but she knew Kamil is right. Fighting right now wouldn’t solve any of their problems.

Lucina tries her phone. “No service. Great! I need to make a phone call to my family to let them know I am ok…”

Kamil places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know. We will get to our families. Just have some patience, Luce.”

Mac ignores the group completely and sits on the ground, rocking his now sleeping baby who smells really bad. Ugh! Mac scrunches his nose and moves Paul away. Where is the diaper bag? He goes back to the car with baby at arms distance and face turned the opposite direction. The bag’s not in the car. Why did he forget to grab the bag on the way out the door? He lays his forehead against the top of roof and wonders how humorous Jensen would find this situation. He would make fun of him for days!

_“The bags probably contaminated with the deadly toxin, Duncan.” Adam pulls out his stun gun and aims down the hallway. “Not that a baby’s diaper is already filled with questionable material.”_

_Mac responds back half-heartedly, “Nappies are supposed to be like that, prude.” _

_“What a strange word for a babies piece of material that keeps their-“Adam’s mouth is covered by Mac’s hand._

_“Don’t you finish that sentence.” Mac removes his hand. “We need to get out of here. Grab the bag of nappies!” _

_Adam doesn’t resist the chuckle that leaves his throat after Mac leaves with Paul._

Alex snaps his fingers in front of Mac’s face. “Looking for this?” She’s holding up the diaper bag.

“Oh, thank God! I don’t know how much longer I could bear this stench!” Mac thankfully takes the bag from her. He gores around back, pops open the trunk, and proceeds to change Paul in the back.

Alex unpacks all that he needs for the stinky booty, handing Mac piece by piece as if he’s on a surgery table. Asking for each version of a scalpel, wrench, and rubber ducky. Adam would find this amusing…

_“You can’t cut open a diaper with a scalpel, Duncan.” Adam shakes his head. Mac wants to give Adam a break from his regular diaper changing duties, so he takes it upon himself to try and be the funny dad…failing funny dad. _

_“I don’t see how this is amusing to you!” Mac applies the baby powder. “Here I am taking over your job responsibilities as a ‘mother’ by doing you a favor!”_

_Adam raises an eyebrow at Mac’s blatant comment. “Oh? So it’s my responsibility to change the diaper? What do you get to do then?”_

_“I get to not fuck it up!” Mac holds up Paul, showing Adam how bad of a job he did. The latches didn’t stick, baby powder is all over the poor boy’s legs, and to top it off, the diaper falls right off onto Mac’s shoe. _

_Adam scratches at his own beard. “I’ll show you how a real man changes a diaper.”_

Mac smiles. “That he did.”

“Did you say something?” Alex turns to look at Mac.

Mac shakes his head. “No. It’s nothing.”

“Good, because here’s some formula.” Alex shoves the bottle in Mac’s hands. “While you’re feeding him, we need to discuss our next course of action. I don’t think Janus’ helicopter will be showing up.”

Mac feels the color drain from his face for the second time today. “What makes you say that?”

Alex looks down. “The time…Janus…Janus has never been late.”

Never? Mac doesn’t look at her or his son. He stares off to his left in hopes his husband would be standing there to tell him this isn’t true. He’s not there. He will never be there. Sighing, he returns back to Paul and picks up the now clean baby boy. He starts to coo in his father's’ arms, sucking on his thumb in a cutely manner. A smile graces Mac’s lips. They’ll be ok. They’re all healthy, they’re alive, and Adam’s parents will be happy…wait…Mac frowns again. Adam’s parents! He needs to contact them! How? Any sort might compromise their safety, and he couldn’t risk such a fate for them. Fuck! Mac slams the hood of the trunk down and rushes towards Koller.

Koller is doing his best to comfort the two distraught young adults. “We’ll find a way to contact your family safely. Right now, I don’t think it’s the best of times with us being on the run and all!”

Lucina screams into the distance. “This is the worse day of my life! All thanks to some conspiracy nutjobs!”

Mac wonders what’s going to happen to his TF29 family on top of that. Everything’s happening so fast…everything…Mac feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to see an earthly brown carbon one. Adam? He looks to see a smile…a smile that says everything’s going to be ok. The face disappears, and Alex stands there replacing his lovers. Mac returns the smile with a tiny one. He needs to get a grip of himself before he loses these people he just met. He knows Adam is always going to be there for him in some way…just…things are going to be hard for a while now that the winding down is starting to happen.

_A helicopter can be heard in the distance. _

Mac looks up to see that a VTOL is approaching them, but it’s not one of Janus’. Doesn’t look like one. Looks more like a Belltower vehicle. Mac pulls back Paul protectively, wishing he didn’t leave his gun behind. Fortunately, Alex still has her miniscule one. Not that it’s going to do anything against any agent that decides to run out of that thing with guns a blazing! She still gets ready, aiming straight in front of her. The other three go to hide behind the car. Get ready!

_The door slides open. A big guy with a new type of shogun in hand, dressed in civilian clothes, and has shades to match Jensen’s to boot. His right arm has a heavily military graded augmentation that can spin heads around faster than anyone can shoot at him. In other words, he’s dangerous and is here to cause trouble. Time for a plan B on how to escape this man and any ex-Belltower associates that might be on their way. _

Alex lowers her gun. “Saxon?!” She looks at the helicopter to see that he still hasn’t changed the sticker. “You really need to change that damn name plate! You nearly had us spooked!”

“Sorry about that, love. I had to fly low…not my best judgement with what’s going on in the world.” A heavily British accent escapes him. Aw, someone Mac can get along with.

Mac is still weary of the man. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Ben Saxon, mate, and I am your ticket out of here. Get in the damn helio before anybody shows up that’s not on the welcome guest.” Saxon motions his head towards the open door. None of them are budging besides Alex.

Alex stops in front of her comrade. “What’s going on, Saxon? You’re late!”

Saxon frowns. “Janus has been compromised, Alex. I barely received the transmission when everything happened.”

Koller and the gang walk up to Ben. “Woah! My man! Your augmentations look really badass! Mind if I get a look inside that brain of yours when we’re all not in danger?”

Saxon ignores Koller. “Does he have to come with us? I’ll take the two kids behind him, but he can stay.”

Lucina and Kamil glare at the man. They want to tell him that they’re not kids, but he’s their ticket out of here. They get on the chopper before anymore comments are made, or their stupid boss gets them stranded.

“Smart kids.” Saxon picks up Koller and shoves him in there with him. He turns back to Mac and Alex. “Have you ever heard of the saying: ‘The Earthquake and Gray that shook the world’?”

A pause. “No? Well, I just made it up, because I have a lot of explaining to do.”

Mac still has questions, and he’ll have to save them for later. His number one concern is getting Paul to safety, and with the rumbling under the ground…he knows something bad just happened and the sound has just been heard…the bells have been told for this world. That’s ok, because even with the end of the world happening right below their feet, him and his son are alive, and everything’s going to be alright.

_“I promise you, Adam. Everything’s going to be alright.” Mac seals the deal with a kiss to his lover. _

***

Bob Page looks on at the site before him with disgust. What a pity his dead wife had to become a trial of this misfortune. Here she is lying on the same coroner’s table, fully naked, and being sewn up by the same man that not too long ago did an autopsy on Jensen’s body. What a shame the irony has to be this real. He’ll have to bury her in that dress she likes so much. The least he can do for her.

“You’ll have the best funeral in all of Canada with the best plot of private land. I’ll make sure the groundskeeper plants fresh flowers for you every day, and-“Another pause. Page looks at the slab next to Delara’s. “-I’ll make sure you’re buried at the bottom of the ocean with the deepest of Hurricanes. Your own dead lover will surely be thrilled.”

Cruelty of four-dimensional chess is indeed a wicked game. 

“Checkmate, Janus. I win.”


End file.
